sometimes it's impotent to verify your e-reader when going out with friends for the night, as in drinks and other forms of youthful conduction, the kind that will get you hurt or maligned by ears and leaf, with some changes not yet but ought to be over with when the feasts came, test scores were in, and tinsel frowns lending themselves to good home-buying practices cut the feeble chords, ad agencies, filth, and meted out the trip to a slender pot of calcium powder, harangued with angry puff-puff faces, places eerily stinking of old cotton was-his-name-oh, and bland-ful gentries, hinting at lending institutions, pontoons, and schools, the veritable "places next" on the cruddy morning after the miniseries had ebbed and we were all in it together, courting a board game that pm, just in case the reruns had too many dads in them, one too many shock-n-awe types, a hip logo leaning betterment, maybe an icicle as well, eighty three, eighty four, eighty five, and double-L pants parting their beige pattern play: I'm in the 90's now!

denizen hicks stood proudly in the underdumb, pleading to hired legions of fesses and gloats, and the op-ed columnist starring a beady-eyed pileated woodpecker with bedtime sighs and condos for rent, and a splash, that cashed in fan, cheerleading the hex to a spectacle storage or maybe just a pillow-pinch, rammed fun and gullet, a pitcher flu, baring teats to spill a milk lessening, a baby's day off, a spat, a gnat, a table-wearer, with just a dash of lye, as in, olden boys love that snuff, gets em rowing all sleek-easy, shiny wine down the chin, pin cushion dances, presto pesto hakim fullbrights, oh the tales they'd yell, damning billy and weeping when not appropriate: love those colleges, now don't kid me, I'm gullible!