If told that they could not stay up late the children would cry blue murder.

I told her the strength of my purse, and proposed going to the play, which she consenting to, there was I a hopeful spring of thirteen, stuck up in a green box with a blazing whore.

She's a lovely little filly, by Big Lad, out of Damsel in Distress.

The video game in the corner just ate my quarter.