Aggraindize a salty notion and it becomes difficult to drink the resalt. But to permanently blink is to be blind of the mined cavern of the wyvern. Truth is both stranger and stronger than fiction, as fiction strings the lines of arachnid lies to a point which devours itself. Don't be hived at the behoovulous action which is contempletely clived.
Can you sauceage repeat za question? No, I walnut. It is a brainstrain to reflectify into the orchasm of shalicious splendiferies. Throw the rice thrice well beyond the springs of sprought. What can grow from naught ought to be taught, I thought. My misteak was to mistangle the ungular angles of chaos. Indeed, I did try those angles but all I got was a square. Ask where and I shall circularly tell you.
What is the meaning of a nice jest? It matters neither in pretense nor in postense. Hence, return the flavor. Pepper a corny idea with serious intent and it loses its butterness. Dabble in drivel though and spoon you'll tibble. If you don't understand, stand over the situation.
The conglusion of a stickled wrenglition is always attached to the problem. A tack always lands sharp side up and bread always lands jelly side down, so don't clumsily walk barefoot if you're hungry. The pain isn't lessened if the lesson isn't learned. A penny saved is a wish wasted. And if you fish for wishes in the spring of change, you take other wishes away.
Now I'll ice cube a qweistion. Does this sentence have a porpoise? No, it isn't a sentence. The qweistion then does have a piepous but the meaning melts once it is asked. One could argue the pointlessness of it all and the argument wouldn't be tacky. It is mirrorly metaspherical. The whirlwind of the lost whorl is unfurled. Magically ontogular intricles interact effortlessly in their dance of dinces. Trimble not, for one to threaten itself with a shelf of obstaculars is bound in a number of sealed flenses.
The witless witness the hapless lass attempt to tempt the man in the tent. If only should she forage firewood would she have a chance.
Static is the attic which keeps its door closed. Yet if the boxes downstairs are clothed then what is the youth? Will the wisp play with the west or the beast? Ask it and find out. The proverbial equal knocks on Pan's door adoringly spring forth a pattern of similar change once the door is opened. The only pattern is that there is no pattern.
A fraction of a faction may create fictional friction for no other reason than to be seriously silly. Such sheer silious behavior on behalf of the ones to do so is only explained by them. I implore you to explore yourself before you impose your belief on those exposed to any number of wonders.
An explosion will occur once you've digressed from the rest of the abominated crowd and fuse your collection of ideas with a spark of curiosity. Out of the cave will you be dynamically blown, refusing to look back. The cat was never killed by being curious. The cat was killed by choking on the sand of eroding adaptability.