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Just hold it out of his check and get on with it, Dimples.
Why, no. I like ballet. Does she pull anything?
Jesus sat on a donkey citing his wish to have gathered the Hebrews under the wings of what he described as a mother hen. Just then a hen a bazillion crumby dipsticks ran out in front of him and ate their non-Egyptian Protestant selves up right in the dingle berry way.
The moral of the story is, “Stay out of Jimmy Carter’s peanut oil no matter who are acting like so I can finish running snakes up your you-no-whtz, out of your heads, leave you all in the epitaph bidness you love so much, walk the Tribe of Judah’s chariots back in the temple with a flying horse and ya’ll can all eat Mel Gibson’s table with your crumby term life policies.”
I will go with the teem of ex-Spurs on this one. Pop
They don’t clap there. Sneak out.
Someone is passing out eggs right now and it is not those big, bad hedge fund managers.
Oh thank goodness. The cover of “The Globe”.
You read the stars or do you practically howl at the moon?
Write on, Sister Hilburn. Do write on.
Eu de hills of beans in buckets! Look, Tigger.