It’s spooky rhyme but it wasn’t my first ween


-ie choice; the machine flunked me — burst

my thought calculus for the full stretch space sitting there. It restored my faith in the bonus shod of prowess, smoking in slacks (touching my two knees behind your back), undressing. Exercise for us commoners became a rags to riches habit we can’t keep up for more than an hour. But the revenge police are still baffled, turning bright to be seen.