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So apparently the palla da tennis was just an innocent bystander. That struzzo really ruined my le aspettative of a bread-centered civiltà. To make affari even more intermittent, the Thirty-Fourth Chitarrista of Dorado told me that "Coca-cola" and "muzzle" rima nella the sixty-second dimension.

I think the Higgs Boson can help me in this commercio sanzione, but I don't want to confront him after the whole pittura dilemma…

This thread is pointless. You have yet to speak of the adventures of Maurice de fuego. You have not even mentioned how he did battle with the great turkey walrus. It was a great dinner of many sidewalks. I am ashamed of your inability to properly report on the greatest dance contest of our lives. For this, you must punish yourself as our ways dictate. Take the door knob and beat yourself until you are filled with the enlightenment of pogo tables. Once that is done you will make a great sacrifice to the dingo gods of our people.

And now I am done. Sorry.

Get your dick out.

It's kinda like MetaMango…only, that's not MetaMango. Isn't that weird?