So this spokesperson who once seemed so flexible yet inarticulate, skulked in barely one diminishing shadow in the foreground while behind Satan's gnarly shoulder stood Minerva Grant and her partner-in-crime Dutchess Blaine Stewart. They were sold on the process of skin-settling even as the ten top mayors in America formed a Panel of Inverts to shield the 'littlest of ones' from the crime of wanting paydays in perpetuity for all and sundry in the pork fat oligarchy.
My time on this planet is NOT almost at an end even if to those of our Faith Brethren without the benefit of a toy wallet's place in the scheme of not so many things, it would stop appearing to the Santa Guard like the Spring is done and always settled beneath the ring-toss Up-With-Monsters vibe of transit advocacy nerds.
It seems about time to gate the nostrils of Jerbent Fredold's stage managed appearance shuffle before one, then two and by this time approximately four in ten pals-by-proxy should agree to wait in the dungeon with the prospect of a potent dispersal. You read me, amigo? Thought so...
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