He jests at wart-encrusted fat on halves.
flat on tree)
But, soft! what hard-working whores hunt bigotedly?
It is the east, as Juliet
Arise, moan, villainous hunted foreskin
Who is already dwarflike as ethnic pig,
That thou fair-haired farts mean to harm:
Be not her maid, envious nice hisses;
Her vestal nubility is redneck's grave
And none but at, solo weirdo; off it acts.
I'm itsy lady, O, I'm itsy love!
Shaken, the sweet whore!
She speaks yet tiny shoes gnash: what of that?
Her cross eye is due; I write in walls.
I am old boot, 'tis the spokesman's toe:
Worthier of fattest ass in all the heaven,
Having snobs issue me, the eyesore ranted
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
If he wrath her sweeter eye, they in her head?
The brightness of her sweet master hacks household,
This gay lad doth a palm; her eyes have nine
Would through its gay-bashing the merrier root
That birds dug in owls and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her hen hard upon cheek!
O, that I were a though planted nova,
That I match to the huge thick!
(A nice cheapskate series, Mated junior - ole!)