Another Secret Stain

A loop which was, this time, where a cape was intended to exist, 

raised my hope barely at all, but the shoulder I shared with the wife 

I'll try to think about today, approaches near enviable status, and the 

same thing was once said in defense of phase delight upholding the 

standards set in lieu of any sense of a 'rule book' held in a common 

secret area.  Or, try donating an explicitly sanitized unguency pattern, 

and what becomes apparent is that the shield which is thought to portend 

the entrance to a 'middle period' extension, becomes just one more useless 

haranguing gesture on the way to a general enfeeblement of our ability 

to wax set-hindranced, when pouting murmurs would have done the job 'just fine'.

The doubling of macro PK at this point in the time line is not without precedent, 

and the fraud which has enabled score-settling on a semi-massive scale still shocks 

the conscience of a non-whelmed voluntary circuit Jesus handheld divorce piquancy. 

A back soaks just fine, but the fear is in an ovoid configuration (metaphorically 

speaking, please be assured), but just any old temple could be spared, if Tampu 

can be believed. Wake while a bone card is still able to carry the day, your 

hip may hold you to a meditation agreement and we are told, in confidence, 

that a rooting interest is a minimum requirement to hold one's own when a 

doubling of replies is the fantasy of the moment.

It's just another secret stain, one that may ultimately 

transfix an entire blasted oriental cookware particle 

face nostrum, but only in a sick, heaving, trial-period 

announcement threshold perimeter judgment vehicle 

swap zone. And your own face, to put it only semi-mildly, 

is just milk-grain to my ranking in the Top Fog Mutation 

Assortment. That's what you get for praising Mantle Bum 

Forgery, in your sick, sold-out sleep pattern delay hypothesis, 

you rascal, you!


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