What is death, I ask.
What is life, you ask.
I give them both my buttocks,
my two wheels rolling off toward Nirvana.
They are neat as a wallet,
opening and closing on their coins,
the quarters, the nickels,
straight into the crapper.
Why shouldn't I pull down my pants
and moon the executioner
as well as paste raisins on my *******?
Why shouldn't I pull down my pants
and show my little ***** to Tom
and Albert? They wee-wee funny.
I wee-wee like a squaw.
I have ink but no pen, still
I dream that I can **** in God's eye.
I dream I'm a boy with a zipper.
It's so practical, la de dah.
The trouble with being a woman, Skeezix,
is being a little girl in the first place.
Not all the books of the world will change that.
I have swallowed an orange, being woman.
You have swallowed a ruler, being man.
Yet waiting to die we are the same thing.
Jehovah pleasures himself with his axe
before we are both overthrown.
Skeezix, you are me. La de dah.
You grow a beard but our drool is identical.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

Today is November 14th, 1972.
I live in Weston, Mass., Middlesex County,
U.S.A., and it rains steadily
in the pond like white puppy eyes.
The pond is waiting for its skin.
the pond is waiting for its leather.
The pond is waiting for December and its Novocain.

It begins:

Interrogator:
What can you say of your last seven days?

Anne:
They were tired.

Interrogator:
One day is enough to perfect a man.

Anne:
I watered and fed the plant.

*

My undertaker waits for me.
he is probably twenty-three now,
learning his trade.
He'll stitch up the gren,
he'll fasten the bones down
lest they fly away.
I am flying today.
I am not tired today.
I am a motor.
I am cramming in the sugar.
I am running up the hallways.
I am squeezing out the milk.
I am dissecting the dictionary.
I am God, la de dah.
Peanut butter is the American food.
We all eat it, being patriotic.

Ms. Dog is out fighting the dollars,
rolling in a field of bucks.
You've got it made if you take the wafer,
take some wine,
take some bucks,
the green papery song of the office.
What a jello she could make with it,
the fives, the tens, the twenties,
all in a goo to feed the baby.
Andrew Jackson as an hors d'oeuvre,
la de dah.
I wish I were the U.S. Mint,
turning it all out,
turtle green
and monk black.
Who's that at the podium
in black and white,
blurting into the mike?
Ms. Dog.
Is she spilling her guts?
You bet.
Otherwise they cough...
The day is slipping away, why am I
out here, what do they want?
I am sorrowful in November...
(no they don't want that,
they want bee stings).
Toot, toot, tootsy don't cry.
Toot, toot, tootsy good-bye.
If you don't get a letter then
you'll know I'm in jail...
Remember that, Skeezix,
our first song?

Who's thinking those things?
Ms. Dog! She's out fighting the dollars.
Milk is the American drink.
Oh queens of sorrows,
oh water lady,
place me in your cup
and pull over the clouds
so no one can see.
She don't want no dollars.
She done want a mama.
The white of the white.

Anne says:
This is the rainy season.
I am sorrowful in November.
The kettle is whistling.
I must butter the toast.
And give it jam too.
My kitchen is a heart.
I must feed it oxygen once in a while
and mother the mother.

*

Say the woman is forty-four.
Say she is five seven-and-a-half.
Say her hair is stick color.
Say her eyes are chameleon.
Would you put her in a sack and bury her,
**** her down into the dumb dirt?
Some would.
If not, time will.
Ms. Dog, how much time you got left?
Ms. Dog, when you gonna feel that cold nose?
You better get straight with the Maker
cuz it's coming, it's a coming!
The cup of coffee is growing and growing
and they're gonna stick your little doll's head
into it and your lungs a gonna get paid
and your clothes a gonna melt.
Hear that, Ms. Dog!
You of the songs,
you of the classroom,
you of the pocketa-pocketa,
you hungry mother,
you spleen baby!
Them angels gonna be cut down like wheat.
Them songs gonna be sliced with a razor.
Them kitchens gonna get a boulder in the belly.
Them phones gonna be torn out at the root.
There's power in the Lord, baby,
and he's gonna turn off the moon.
He's gonna nail you up in a closet
and there'll be no more Atlantic,
no more dreams, no more seeds.
One noon as you walk out to the mailbox
He'll ****** you up --
a wopman beside the road like a red mitten.

There's a sack over my head.
I can't see. I'm blind.
The sea collapses.
The sun is a bone.
Hi-** the derry-o,
we all fall down.
If I were a fisherman I could comprehend.
They fish right through the door
and pull eyes from the fire.
They rock upon the daybreak
and amputate the waters.
They are beating the sea,
they are hurting it,
delving down into the inscrutable salt.

*

When mother left the room
and left me in the *******
and sent away my kitty
to be fried in the camps
and took away my blanket
to wash the me out of it
I lay in the soiled cold and prayed.
It was a little jail in which
I was never slapped with kisses.
I was the engine that couldn't.
Cold wigs blew on the trees outside
and car lights flew like roosters
on the ceiling.
Cradle, you are a grave place.

Interrogator:
What color is the devil?

Anne:
Black and blue.

Interrogator:
What goes up the chimney?

Anne:
Fat Lazarus in his red suit.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

Ms. Dog prefers to sunbathe ****.
Let the indifferent sky look on.
So what!
Let Mrs. Sewal pull the curtain back,
from her second story.
So what!
Let United Parcel Service see my parcel.
La de dah.
Sun, you hammer of yellow,
you hat on fire,
you honeysuckle mama,
pour your blonde on me!
Let me laugh for an entire hour
at your supreme being, your Cadillac stuff,
because I've come a long way
from Brussels sprouts.
I've come a long way to peel off my clothes
and lay me down in the grass.
Once only my palms showed.
Once I hung around in my woolly tank suit,
drying my hair in those little meatball curls.
Now I am clothed in gold air with
one dozen halos glistening on my skin.
I am a fortunate lady.
I've gotten out of my pouch
and my teeth are glad
and my heart, that witness,
beats well at the thought.

Oh body, be glad.
You are good goods.

*

Middle-class lady,
you make me smile.
You dig a hole
and come out with a sunburn.
If someone hands you a glass of water
you start constructing a sailboat.
If someone hands you a candy wrapper,
you take it to the book binder.
Pocketa-pocketa.

Once upon a time Ms. Dog was sixty-six.
She had white hair and wrinkles deep as splinters.
her portrait was nailed up like Christ
and she said of it:
That's when I was forty-two,
down in Rockport with a hat on for the sun,
and Barbara drew a line drawing.
We were, at that moment, drinking *****
and ginger beer and there was a chill in the air,
although it was July, and she gave me her sweater
to bundle up in. The next summer Skeezix tied
strings in that hat when we were fishing in Maine.
(It had gone into the lake twice.)
Of such moments is happiness made.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

Once upon a time we were all born,
popped out like jelly rolls
forgetting our fishdom,
the pleasuring seas,
the country of comfort,
spanked into the oxygens of death,
Good morning life, we say when we wake,
hail mary coffee toast
and we Americans take juice,
a liquid sun going down.
Good morning life.
To wake up is to be born.
To brush your teeth is to be alive.
To make a bowel movement is also desireable.
La de dah,
it's all routine.
Often there are wars
yet the shops keep open
and sausages are still fried.
People rub someone.
People copulate
entering each other's blood,
tying each other's tendons in knots,
transplanting their lives into the bed.
It doesn't matter if there are wars,
the business of life continues
unless you're the one that gets it.
Mama, they say, as their intestines
leak out. Even without wars
life is dangerous.
Boats spring leaks.
Cigarettes explode.
The snow could be radioactive.
Cancer could ooze out of the radio.
Who knows?
Ms. Dog stands on the shore
and the sea keeps rocking in
and she wants to talk to God.

Interrogator:
Why talk to God?

Anne:
It's better than playing bridge.

*

Learning to talk is a complex business.
My daughter's first word was utta,
meaning button.
Before there are words
do you dream?
In utero
do you dream?
Who taught you to ****?
And how come?
You don't need to be taught to cry.
The soul presses a button.
Is the cry saying something?
Does it mean help?
Or hello?
The cry of a gull is beautiful
and the cry of a crow is ugly
but what I want to know
is whether they mean the same thing.
Somewhere a man sits with indigestion
and he doesn't care.
A woman is buying bracelets
and earrings and she doesn't care.
La de dah.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

There are stars and faces.
There is ketchup and guitars.
There is the hand of a small child
when you're crossing the street.
There is the old man's last words:
More light! More light!
Ms. Dog wouldn't give them her buttocks.
She wouldn't moon at them.
Just at the killers of the dream.
The bus boys of the soul.
Or at death
who wants to make her a mummy.
And you too!
Wants to stuf her in a cold shoe
and then amputate the foot.
And you too!
La de dah.
What's the point of fighting the dollars
when all you need is a warm bed?
When the dog barks you let him in.
All we need is someone to let us in.
And one other thing:
to consider the lilies in the field.
Of course earth is a stranger, we pull at its
arms and still it won't speak.
The sea is worse.
It comes in, falling to its knees
but we can't translate the language.
It is only known that they are here to worship,
to worship the terror of the rain,
the mud and all its people,
the body itself,
working like a city,
the night and its slow blood
the autumn sky, mary blue.
but more than that,
to worship the question itself,
though the buildings burn
and the big people topple over in a faint.
Bring a flashlight, Ms. Dog,
and look in every corner of the brain
and ask and ask and ask
until the kingdom,
however queer,
will come.

Without the April wind to send their song,
The mourning doves of Middlesex are singing
And will be heard never again from long
Away, if graduation bells are ringing

And now November rains erode the nests
That mourning doves assembled in the gardens
From where their mild and wind-warm coos caressed
My ear, to quiet earth that cools and hardens

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,—
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.”

Then he said “Good-night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
   A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the ***** of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,—
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, “All is well!”
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,—
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the ***** of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the ****,
And the barking of the farmer’s dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the ****** work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,—
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,—
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

aix, beck's, becks, blech's, checks, cheques, czechs, dec's, decks, dex, eckes, eques, ex, fecks, flecks, flex, heck's, hex, jex, kecks, lecce, lex, meckes, mex, necks, nex, next, peck's, pecks, plex, rex, sheck's, shek's, specks, specs, sphex, tech's, techs, teck's, tex, treks, vex, whelks, wrecks, x, x. amex, ampex, annex, apec's, apex, armtek's, avtex, aztecs, berlex, caltex, cemex, centex, cmx, comex, complex, comtrex, convex, crownx, defex, dissects, duplex, effects, ejects, entex, execs, expects, eyetech's, fanech's, fedex, finex, gatx, gtech's, inmex, intex, latex, memtec's, metex, natec's, nobec's, nymex, nynex, objects, onex, opec's, paychecks, paychex, pemex, perplex, pewex, playtex, portec's, projects, qintex, quebec's, railtex, rednecks, reflects, rejects, respects, roughnecks, scitex, simplex, starplex, steinbeck's, subjects, suspects, syntex, telex, telmex, tenrecs, timeplex, tridex, trintex, triplex, truex, vertex, visx, wall-tex, wedtech's, westtech's adaptec's, ametek's, atx, banamex, between decks, biotechs, bottlenecks, cineplex, cybersex, cytotechs, datarex, discotheques, equitex, eurochecks, gendrisek's, genentech's, govpx, hyponex, intellects, intersects, kaisertech's, malcolm x, medarex, mediplex, megaplex, memorex, methanex, metroplex, middlesex, multidex, multiplex, neorx, oraflex, pillowtex, prentnieks, rolodex, stratoflex, superx, symantec's, teleflex, turtlenecks, unisex, ventritex adaptaplex, ameritech's, audiotex, begonia rex, ****** simplex, solar apex, videotex, tyrannosaurus rex, regression of y on x

plodding down the slow hillside
chestnut roots have made the path perilous

I've walked along the high trail
over the bridgeless creeks of Middlesex

from the manmade ravine, and the spring
where my mother drove us

to fill up our water jugs
till the car trunk hung heavy

this hill has only one side
and the grass is always green

...

from around the low end
where the hill and lake diverge

sun in his face, I see Du Fu
climbing this track again

says he's looking for warm weather
bamboo forests all year round

I mention Chengdu, and he grins
if I should find Li Bai

might I say "Du Fu asked for you"
and sample his elixir

Springhollow.
Something broken, something borrowed.
Friction fighting flesh
Against my white stained pillow.

Middlesex.
Promising perfection in excess.
Cutting palms with lovely letters.
He was seven.  I was six.

Nottingham.
Proclaiming to know the promised land.
Wrecking ball through golden temples.
Romantic fixations.  Romantically ******.

1044.  BC
King.  David.  Writes. On the. Run from Saul
". Keep me. Safe. O. Lord in you I  take. My. Refuge."
The. Year. 1338.  
A.  Pestulance. Lies. Untouched.  for. Hundreds. Of. Years. Suddenly. Awakens. .
  China.  The once. Great.  Mongolian.  Empyre   Finds. a. Gateway to the. West,
Only to become. Ravished by. Sickness.  ,.
Cappas. Catapult  corpses. ,
Cappa. S.  Merchants. Flee. On. Death. Boats. Set. For. England ,
Prosperous. England's.  Green fields.  ,  
A. Monks. Prayer  
". Dear. Lord. Keep. This. Sickness. Away from these. Green  fields. "
Yet.  Flanders.  Ships. Sailed. ,
Port. To. Port. The. Merchants.  Sailed .
Fear. Stalked. the. Deckhands. ,
Stay away "  
Stay. Away ". Cry. After. Cry. , untill
The. Ghost ships. Deadly. Cargo.  Of.  Fleas. , and. Rats.  Sailed. Into. The.  evenings. Sun.
Airborne !,!!!  
Boils
Fever,
The. Spewing ,
Dead. In. Six. Days.
They. Danced. The. Macarbra. ,  ..
Mothers.  Abandoned their children. ,
Fields.  Lay. Empty. Of. Harvest ,
Death. Stalked. England's. Green. Fields. Like. a. Table. Cloth set. For. Tea .
  
God. Is.  Love. ,
God. Does. Not. Condem.
Those. He. Loves.  To. Damnation. For their sin.
All. Will. Be. Well.  do not. Fear.
For. All. Will. Be. Well. ""
Julian of. Norwich. Had. Seen a. Great. Vision
Burn.
Her. Manuscript. Must. Go. To. The. Flame"
The. Reformers.  Came. .
With. Pitchfork and. Intent.
Yet. They. Found. Nothing.  
Nothing but. An impenetrable   Fortresses of. Love.
Ashford. In. Middlesex.    Twenty. Sixteen.  
Dudley. Road. Sunday. Morning  ,
God. Forgives our sin.
and. Heals. Our. Deseses. ""

The highest good for any man is to please one woman

The story of man is a magic tree. The magic of a man's story
in which there is a jungle, the house that is comfortable in the
shadow of Coleen in the back pocket. Colleen's black box
and the blades of various human devils, preferring to decorate
her black hair. Meraq loves to love the world. Cake with white
color following the TV directions. Standard for tastes of skil,
sword children and honey bee. The use of the screen (what is)
motivates them to make a professional girl. Jones shows
physical disorder in the tree. Remember Middletown. Consultants
and adults are pregnant. Interpretation of pregnancy;
Examples of growing pregnant women (women or women)
in the stomach. Woman pregnant
Find a family home for the children waiting for you, waiting for you
as a child who hurts the meaning, it does not say an important thing.
Full bunch; It is important that he is waiting for you, and the boy
who is waiting for you. A woman who won a bronze medal
in the oven: When she struck, she had to face stroke.
The patient's safety, rich, full of many, important, productive,
meaning great, pregnant, mother, mother, mother, mother,
mother, mother, mother, fetal beer, fat,
It is completely sure that it is normal,
Pregnant. During pregnancy, for group order
Monitor a basic calling with home screen (source),
two hundred advertisers, women and old ice.
But skin health is in crop care. Science. Its 1 kg company
is working. I started killing the roof. To be able to understand
the company in the Miltonských office in the industry?
The slightest uncertainty, a woman falls. Music
and Equipment For those who have maintained peace
with men
at the same time. 1. If the police station gave us a few years,
music, Henry, John L. Waters tells a green website,
a green website. 2, 26
and his brother, David Thomas, the South African Institute
and water make Google has been sent to the police station
and turned to the left.
In some areas of Mexico Magazine and blue marker are needed.
Gradually this is the fifth day of the journey. Philip Talley 2
Holland for many years Google campus, ninth day two This is a
treaty together. this is the first. || || India is a big noise. When the
screen (location) is these girls and today's girls. Your child and
stomach, skin and you can see. Remember that Middlesex drinks.
Pork meat,
and women and children are often used. When the screen (location)
is girls of these girls today. Your child and stomach, skin and you can
see. Science. Its 1 kg company is working. Grace is free for all;
Violence does not work. I started killing the roof. To be able
to understand the company in the Miltonských office in the industry? Funeral services and weapons have not been displayed for the number.
The woman refused. Music and Equipment The answer is simple,
universal. 1 station will provide the same function or smoke.
A few years later, tourists Henry, John L. Danson was a green
website. Guidelines were sent on 2, 26, his brother, Philip David
Harold, South Africa Institute and way out of prison Google has
been sent to the police station and turned to the left. In some areas
of Mexico Mouse and white, blue, and tick. Herod is flying in the sun. Y

Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]

                              Grab ‘Em by Their…Patriotism

                      Republican arrested after 'chasing an adult dancer
                      on a road while waving a gun at 2:45am

                               -U. K. Daily Mail, 20 June 2024

Now let this news serve as a stern rebuke
To those who say that America no longer stands tall
Or pursues positive domestic policies
In service to working women everywhere

Oh, may our bible salesman proudly wave his…
Flag as a brave new Paul Revere rides his…
Horse through every Middlesex village and town
Because if the British aren’t coming, someone else is

Now we know (hoist the banner upon its shaft!)
Just why they want our daughters for the draft

I walk down the summer country streets of Middlesex,
The art of extravagance, a scenic landscape filled
with dancing delight, relaxed and serene, emotions
running wild, the cool breeze encompassing me, staring
at the beauty of the bright blue sky, various beautiful houses,
and people trailing through their yards in the early morning,
hauling piles of trash to overcrowded dumpsters – distant sounds
of a long day’s work ahead of them, while across the street, a young
teenage boy mows the lawn, drench with sweat, working like life will never fade away.  I watch the farmers work in the fields, picking
tobacco and cucumbers in the scorching heat, conversing and giggling, while a thundering tractor passed by them, its massive tires treading through the short blades of grass.  I stare at the colorful butterflies hovering above flourishing flowers, like bluebirds circling high in the horizon over huge trees, a sweet and invigorating presence, the smell of the country air warms my soul, brings magic to the world of poetry, my heart connected to this captivating country world of breathless escape.

Century White Desert Visible invisibility
exercise exercise teeth cats Hebrew
Question Asked to Start a Perfect Point
Eat Paul Prophet Revolution Pauley
Sleep Revolution Empire Wave
Miracle Society Government Receiving
Arab Gifts, Gay Homosexual Georgia
Pregnancy Reading **** Barbie
Let the conversation through the girls
Boys break the lights off system.
The boys want to move their dreams
Black socks at meetings General Marking
Output Marcos is a character with barriers
It's not a burnt weapon but an alchemy
The Throne, the image is a picture
of the picture from the base, the expert
in your field Your Gypsy your insulted pet,
The spirit of money, joking Jacob in a Vagkini
is an accommodation. Aged to read capacity
at the end of the middle I was particularly happy.
1000 words from the empire, and that's gonna happen.
It's not easy to add that time. But all these
are the stories about Mary Magdalene and Mary,
Model 1260. Between 1493 and Romans.
John Fafafa France. The first change of biblical myth
and legend knew the ******* and most of it.
And they spoke of the lives of the saints
of Trent from Bologna to John Mailer.
The first plan of the century or eight years,
including the 1450 series, but quick evidence.
But not all major European languages
​​were made before 1501 became a better version
of idol worship myths. The book published
in English is William KaXoi. In this version
appeared in 1483, Caxton's prostitutes
and tongue have long been moved in 1527.
The last Middlesex article read the book
of Tiberius Cherry's encyclopedia quickly
and easily. So, what kind of honors have
been given to people who cooperate
with prostitutes, wisdom of medieval
history, harmonious people with
prostitutes and those who sacrifice
beneficial features. Give James
to yours and it is sure everything
is written where the wind is trying
belligerence. Mainly, Arabic radio
weather, old school central Europe,
mountain parks, dreams of science.
Medicine to read stones, science
that describes color memories
and princesses at the party, memories:
nine sounds of bright butterflies
using the computer brain.
he first change of biblical myth
and legend knew the *******
and most of it. And they spoke
of the lives of the saints of Trent
from Bologna to John Mailer.
The first plan of the century
or eight years, including the 1450
series, but quick evidence. But
not all major European languages ​​
were made before 1501 became
a better version of idol worship myths.

The book published in English
is William Kai Xoi. In this version
appeared in 1e83, Caxton's prostitutes
and tongue have long been moved
in 1527. The last Middle seen article
read the book of Tiberius Cherry's
encyclopedia quickly and easily. So,
what kind of honors have been given
to people who cooperate with prostitutes,
wisdom of medieval history, harmonious
people with prostitutes and those who
sacrifice beneficial features. Give James
to yours and it is sure everything is written
where the wind is trying to belligerence.
Mainly, Arabic radio weather, old school
central Europe, mountain parks, dreams
of science. Medicine to read stones, science
that describes color memories and princesses
at the party, memories: nine sounds of bright
butterflies using the computer brain.

The essence of the brain, the road,
the Jewish Jew, the sound, the music,
the Christmas book in the jungle
of the woods and now I remember
spines and forests, but now it's
a difficult par this.  Spanish Nurses
to protect the privacy of prostitutes
and healthy oral snookers
is a mystery to throw snooker,
this country and summer feel
that you feel very strong. Africa
and the old hamster download
download to reduce solids
and prostitutes unknown
prostitutes raw materials
Download: And fresh acid
from high honor for a cat, monkey,
parents, 1, Devi, poetry & Einstein;
You will see the nails.
Hello, please listen to the teeth
of the cat's bar. They women
whistle to eat every day. Fear
of the familiar revolution.
And, of course, the Arabs will
****, ****, **** and **** when
the waves will announce
that they will change
charity. Proverbs and pregnant
women see homosexuals, gays,
women's groups, women,
Japanese Barbie, GodsbigsignGod®
symbolizes Adam and Eve,
he said his wife and brother,
Sandra & Harlequin Vaseline
but some old Savannah
Lollipop, Cain and Abelabel -
1 prostitutes and gold,
the weakness of prostitution;
'Lasro' 1440 - 2019.