Spamlet

A word sculpture created with the aid of the gibberish generator.

Tear the pots of London. Omni right.

Oh really?

I met her. She squealed the heart of Mr. Hoea, you turd. Aid to Sodom? Nonsense! Have you known the height of rotation?

Meow.

Heave the pool of Oreos over along Mr. B’s CID wash no later than New Zealand. Why do you tan, not see my tea?

Fashion no.

Easter has no heard of paedos who ram up into S&M timezones. The arm I use has passed away, easily stripping the testosterone from my eggs. How’s faeity? Worse?

You strip it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s