Chef-d'oeuvre
What
a
gobsmacking gay shite with
pinkly puked bright shallots
gently
covered
by circle
line.
Paris, go laugh your red wine laugh- sneery-
la flexiblue
la die now meeek
la maad erne
Don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.
Oui.
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