Hey, all! I'm getting ready this weekend's Winter War gaming convention, so I have been unable to bring you my usual amount of nonsense. So instead, here's some artifically generated nonsense:
The cleavage for another dilettante falls in love with a curse over a snow, or a stalactite related to an espadrille plays pinochle with the rascally looking glass. A wily necromancer, a slovenly cup, and a guardian angel beyond a philosopher are what got Jespera into trouble. A piroshki ridiculously dances with a labyrinth defined by the menagé à trois.
The looking glass over a ruffian finds subtle faults with a self-actualized tenor. If the irreconcilable cream puff amorously takes a peek at a sublime cigar, then another ribbon around some starlet rejoices. Kafka, the friend of the Interloper and Lila, goes to sleep with some girl. He called her Timosha (or was it Toscanini?).
Hills — the search for perfection continues
5 minutes ago