Carbukle Praries Ride!

Hwllo!
I made new friends tonte! We were to make frends with the apollo, but instead we make waylay and try to argue new friends to courtship!



Not much more for us to realize we needed help; if only prarie manager and associated drinkingbuddy could assist us, we would to lose the nervouz. Bt, to swallow the ashtray mouth and try for forgiveness the banter-slap anguish and aching smart-hole.




Still, are we to be blamed for the snake-handlers, the boor-ish slovonites, nor the putemishly shaped brow of the esquimauex. Raather should we be the forebear, the provincial truth-shaper, the cacique malaysian? If anything, I think our apathy is our badge of laquadyciKalitty, something the "square community" would love to shut down.



Dijnoscars died because they lost favor of fashion.

I AM AN OUTLAW, YOU ARE MY GRANDPA, SHUT UP, I HAVE FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS BURIED UNDERNEATH THE CORNER OF MY HOUSE.

peace,
Otamar.