This other geezer leans on his post. It's all post post post this morning. A shovelling donut passing by, a sliding ferret. What;s tha?
Shelby says its Jurassic. To me its just an icecream. A fine tongue. Possibility of tetech here. Look. The iphobe she says, and this is my phone. The long winded ski jumpt down her throat is a feindish repriece from some of what I jsut heard. Talk talk talk talk talk. Here I stand.... so it's a not as good as yesterday already. I just can't get into their argument, that's why I was pleased to greet Mr Latour this morning. I think I've made about sixty sous this morning; there's still the washing up to be done at Joes Pizza. I crush my ecologic packaging into my handsome palm tree. To her I am man sans telephon. Ici. She lips her licks: 'it's not real, see?" She licks again.
Funny what some people think of as a joke. I think it's amber juice. Quie c'est? What's that?