Destination...SOUTH! PRAKE my sundry, ye oath of lore.
The lore describeth towards noon, whereas I am yet unnoticed.
I feel increasingly anxious over bregs, especially on this 2 weeks eve,
upon us, it is.
Have you felt this need, this insatiable twinge for a good bregs?
I have, and its eating my soup...!
Super soup, supper supposed to be sumptuous.

Best Pease,
Barking Barrier



On Thu, 13 Dec 2012 01:26:53 +0100, MMkay17432 - The Terrible Twenties
Years wrote:

Never deal with peas, please.
Feel a faint blow to your GAME.com.
Serious shit, but I must digress. Bless this mess, these bregs of
Christmas past.
Expired gander out your ass, and with chamber music I must retire.
Rock Hart the ultimate paragon, and Delolden my squire.
Pray with me and pass the bunions,
and I will give you funions without question, and hold the dressing
before undressing.
And here comes the squander
of bregs asunder, another blunder for your leftover peas parry, and for
your mother named Larry.

- The Bregs Prayer, on Christmas Two-Weeks Eve

Don't Thank Me,
Tarpin Terrier


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