Rancid gherkin younches inevitably attract mildew. Toothy, argumentative mildews with extra eyebrows where their noses should me. The Cheese must never song an emblem younch. Sans autocorrect, sonk an eeble younch.
Song an emblem younch
Without the means to an end, an end is upended into not an end. Anymore. Therefore, alternative facts become the relative coal for our winter's nap. Chemical reactions occur, bodies flood with hormones and the beast molts. Outpourings of bilious croutons put the sink in ooble yank. When frozen they make delightful cannon fodder.
“Walking about with your genitalia in the breeze is a sure way to avert suspicious eyes”
That's why I don't drink hard stuff anymore.