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# posted by Anonymous : Friday, February 10, 2006 3:53:00 PM
# posted by poo : Friday, February 10, 2006 5:42:00 PM
Funny... it's random, but it still makes sense
# posted by Paul : Friday, February 10, 2006 6:29:00 PM
At last she was equipped with gaping raiders that were steadfast upon her quarry. Behold thy whisked talon of workmanship upon the rails of freedom in which she began to cry. What must be told of lone fighting stances is that yield treason of the monarch and lonesome breast. Cometh thy sword of theater as the wind of thinking prevails upon the light of greatness. Fight he said, and when the bellows became clitoris she was dwelling in flatulence. And the story ends here for now.......