A sword makes pies of flattery under a ribcage. I bubble on under the gargole of past-times. People drill popsicle smiles on elephants. I get fluttery on fiddle-sticks and fortune. Understated hippo makes underware instruments. Pork sees triangle God of hairy door. I can flounce bitterly on purple stairs. Don't train jets for hillbilly launching.
Ugh I tried.
This actually makes too much sense. Maybe I should smoke a reefer first.
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