Mar 30, 2016
D O M
About facing pegmen on tiles, cardboard. Have you specified what’s been done done (done done) at the languages room (right hand side)? Has either spouse or godson been notified, i.e., know they the drill? Kind of flattering how your every fellah’s a road orange (just add water) and thusly bloomed a wall overweek, but ehemm, two’ve been flexing their sniping joints. Surely no elbowing them, so ally with hostages and mouthpieces, whistle the tune, doll up that adam’s and roll us some hard misericordiam. Been stringing up rubbers for my poisoned whelp, glad she noticed: Nothing beats children looking quite, like, the, father! Should’ve tendered those eggs, your gratitude eldered for Mlle. Clara—then, rosily, pat your forehead with the smaller book. An evening stroll to the hundredth florist might’ve done us one wonder, at the least, our souls threadbare, our lies sandpapery. Unschooled in topnotch subtlety, this puff meant to poke the green of your pupils, to distract (indeed) so keep your scalp gray between the games. Two of you just fielding monopoly in my book, your cube locked / the chances you drew undetected.