What a superb device he can be, this boy. If anything, of course, he could for preference look even iller and more zombyish than he does. Anything for the cause.
They passed slowly under the jacaranda trees beginning to bloom lavender over their heads.
I didn't want to burn 'em out, but that's policy. So we zippoed their hooch.
Oral accounts of those who remember the old grisettes say they were low-alcohol, light-bodied, saison-like golden ales of no great distinction.
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