I have recovered something....ah, ah, ah, ah...It was left there stuck under the dresser, there, bared. On en parlera chez vous dans vigt-quatre heures, Mavvy. See, I have found the relapstick! I have noted psychotic. The culprit was indeed the social worker but...let me explain and pad are the Teneri-ife holly.....DAZE and confused, the social worker, Monsieur Robert, opened the door to invite the lady, in blac, in white, the missing linked grits her teeth immenselly CAR ELLE SAIT QUE LE COPUABLE FUT CACHE DANS LA COMMODE! It was easy to devise this device, it makes all the assurees jet off lovely on a Lifetime journey, donc, le mari est parti et le cher Robert, connu des docturs de la mort, rattache the elastosh to une fille qui rode dans la nuit a Saint-Gentil. Je suis farfelu et surdoue on me nomme le Kiss de Montfavet et de Boissonet sur Garotte, the dead, the dead, he was STALKING Claudia Sciffer! The devil had recorded on his answer phone, the man in black rode the all road to L.A to witness the Lily Tragick. L.A.... L.A Crishton Avenue, Joey Rodney is seen, ruling his own land, omnitate, amitate, exauced and glou and glou greed and jalou! ¨Freeze, he is meat, he is meat, he is meeting no-one for a while, O Ville Marie. Jesus Christ, shouted the detective who bends over for a kiss after the caroussel sleeper fails to reach out to the girl but lipses on the paper front, river, river, mer, mer. On the bike quick, changer la chanson....J'AI l'IMpreSSion QU'Il Ecouttte ! Deleuil ! Alpha begets, burnt. The social war begun in Mississipi, Etollicode shouted Mi 6 on the tv set blaring to loud for the poor meth smacking bitch who seals if I dream all THIS backwards into her...Meard I If sleas ohw hct...I attempted, J'ai essaye de vous mouiller en croyant que la folle Cyfique etait Brid Patt! Claudia was Kast Mort, indded, spot, the guy on the street, break the bank, steal the Cd and call the cops in LA to batter this long quiquette fadette. Gay, me not, meh no wanna be seen wid her, broder! Mr Robbo, Robert Smith, One track minds into the little life that Marie did. Holy, married, at a Madecleine, churches in Paris lining for the code to enter the city wait on.......wait on...the liar was stringed, the lover of his own mind puffed a toke on her puffer of Joana Narilla, la hyerba le frace imaginalement....Mess with the best. The rotten cow! The purple shit, shouted he on the back row chewing. I am mister Messerschmidt and I will prover au jury que madame est la et que monsieur donŕ really care about her, whatever you think, le monde, they don really cared about her, dirty launding, early leaving, clean sheets, my whore, my teeth, marry me on Disco. in Tenerife, sector 52, the Devil was there always hoping for a blog. I kicked in la figure el commandatore, la comizaria, le social aroused circle of Mofo Mutant Ninja Bastard french Beach.....................and whoever it needs to be for the judge to send me..................FINALLY A Plaster
My Version Of The Truth