Captivated by her beauty, her wasp-like waistline and, most importantly, her Jordanesque chest measurements, I'd made a reasonable fist of chatting her up.
The pills in a Z-pak are to be taken as follows: […]
The blasters are those beams of ravening destruction which take care of recalcitrant meteorites in a spaceship's course when the deflectors can't handle them.
Some few thankless foreigners may be as you say sadly Russian, but as to me I am Russianly sad. ...”
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