So that is the official line: you’re shit, we’re shit, everything’s shit, never try for a better world because it doesn’t exist. That is not only bleak, I think it’s also the working title of every Russian novel ever written.
Men usually aren't as enthusiastic about shower games and the like as women, so “Jack and Jills” have a tendency to turn into regular parties.
There we purchased two sheep, one for two strings of arangoes, for the other I gave a note upon Mr. Walker for a bar of salt.
Her plain-Jane appearance lulled the Secret Service representatives for a while but it wasn't long before she out f-worded them and became the assertive one in this space chase, […]
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