LockedMy problema is uncertain at the unfortunate present that I'm living in the present. Maybe my verbosità sounds redundant to the ears of people who have been masked by the ciarlataneria of Fedora Man. Maybe if you had not had a high desiderio to seriously sostenere the words covered in my similes composed of ossimori and rhetorical, you would not have been infected by the virus with a mustache with molto onore. Please leave it alone and let me tell my bracci to your romantic and bisessuali colleagues to stardom as incauti chronic.
Perhaps the idea of leaving my gonadi in the air was certainly wrong, but at least it turned into something di positivo. As a guard walked forward while I had my voluptuous palle d'oro balls in the air, he fainted from the horrors of the scene. It was undoubtedly controproducente for the Spoon Army to have so many keys in his hands, so I have in my possession the door to freedom in the hands of un totale of 500 keys. As you did not say what access should I take at those momenti di difficolta, I entered the Otter door. To my surprise I did not find otters, but a misterioso man.
I asked: What's your intrigante name? His words were: Karantoo, the warrior of the heavens and dragons. Santo Maccaroni indeed.
