Suddenly a crashing sasquatch came and ate my taint.
Flaunting desires in front of a cracksnaggler and noone wanted dick to run out of condoms before they ran headfirst backwards into a poopie-monster that had seventeen bonobos flinging poo killing everyone with bukkake laced feces into darkness infinite.
In coherence of a time when salamanders tap danced for rain, she made sardine smoothies to enhance radioactive man metaphorically speaking.
Doughnuts are such that pooping shrimp popsicles facilitate orgies inside of caves praying to the nymphomaniac gods for cookies.
Then my faz de France in order to get cheese from squeezing kids privates without justification or logic.
Sesquipedalian was sitting upside-down anticipating the fucking bastard to duel with rubber chickens chucked heartily until ejaculation of snot.
Susan breakdanced destroying France and the frenchy French.