put the dishwarsher on yesterday. got up at half past six with martin who says women are sincere and went to fetch some water. thoght about the riches of bouncing whilst wearing a hat. wondered how to cast the story line, and if there was enough juice left. went on the internet and wasn’t allowed to order a mixed case. verified date of birth twice with irritation. waited for nine oclock and then waited for half past nine and then whisked round for things to tak. missed quarter to by setting off at 39 steps. made an appointment. the imposter teaspoons had puddles in them from sitting on the side board. didn’t dry them up. felt dizzy all night and looked up lime’s disease. sent a letter a week ago and got ticks by return of post. sheep go baah. became none friends with arson. got asked about bean to the races and wouldn’t answer. thought about the compliment hearing a lawnmower. added bits afterwards.

didn’t help to fit the aid. felt disturbed by blocking conscience who stayed at home with discomfort. uploaded the armour man and heard songs about bosoms. felt compromised and wanted to upgrade. opportune for a friday serial.

didn’t like the minions. got worried about limes disease. filled the jug from the graveyard and felt dizzy. had a shower and photographed the rash. it faded before the photograph. wanted minions. don’t have a gynaecologist. reasoned about prickly bones. the scan wasn’t low enough. Said I do to the operator.

didn’t see limes disease as realistic. had to pass the factor. didn’t stop. said crossroads about the birthday. prompted an early departure. slept afterwards. woke up before the soap having slept off the details. added bits afterwards

let a moth out at 3am.

Makepeace groomed her cat back at the dog. She was thinking of Jez, the one armed clamper, who clamped folk as pets. ‘Come here, Breeze’. The dog looked on and wagged. The sofa was purple with green spots. Makepeace dealt her world of odds and ends. It only worked for her; no friends. From time to time they would throb over how to rule, then as happy to leave in the lurch. Thus queen, thus droole; Makepeace was shorter than strong about personal science.

There was a law
There was an azalea

The election; the fix for life

Three elders, a dahlia and rosemary before divorce.
Damage and wind, occasional blossom.

The groom reappeared, in the shape of a hog. It roared past the window, scattering oranges. Makepeace was wisdom early; she had no idea what was next. Then she hid. Clouds formed heads rumouring the wash to intrude.

A copy of smudge the gerbil was feasting on a sunflower,
quite near a pet shop in Hampstead.
Long live care, snapped the squeak from the door with bars


31st January

In a perfectly nice place in the countryside with big trees and lawns, there was a perfectly nice house with lots of Trojan horses, neighing around in paddocks with picket fences just like Texan ranches.

There was an enormously fat man who liked to copy the famous WC who smoked pipes and drink whisky. This is circa 1495, a date when the Picts were positively active.

There weren’t any fat men with pipes who drank whisky until late in the fifteenth century, when the

And before there was ice cream there weren’t any beaches.

Diatribe is the google for chimney; there was plenty of soot

And when the aunts arrived there were seasons of yet; the fulmination of

And in the perfectly nice place in the countryside with big trees and lawns, there was an argument taking place in 1695. It happened down the wire of a modern telephone, calling the wilderness the dog’s bone.

This afternoon there was a book about a mystery solver, who did nothing but perpetuate flappy hats and versions of going for walks.

A thin woman took piddly things round the block on leads; she skirted the yoke about squash. There were triangles in her head, and nobody noticed.

In fact everybody had triangles in their head and nobody noticed. Nobody was the cause of the 1695; a time when persecution was about how things were done.

Four o’clock from nine to five; a time for wanting to go home for fun.

The piddly woman took some thin things round the lead on blocks; she yoked the squash about the farm; petting dogs for no apparent reason.

The change was pleased


The sensitive man had sensitive cones, and wished to eat the scraps off plates; his name was Ulysees, just to think that he’d stretch from pre dates to the charge of for. He wasn’t meant for anything, except to see, just as a truly intellectual story is full of compact gifts.

Some woman was going around in a demonstration mob, demanding to save the trees; her house was made from albatross, and she was average waste. This makes her quite special, so ALERT, all peeves; take note.

One day, she had; ONE DAY of the phantom bloat; more than fifteen minutes, her protesting tote.

“One day it’ll all be over”

The 1695s didn’t have any jobs, so they rang the SHOUT and sheepdogs bandied about with waggy tails and breathless sheep. Actually they were quite happy. It was actually the demonstration involving Ulysees, who was famous but scarce.

The world spun about the onion

Everyone called Juliet

A baby boom corrected firmament, and

Ducks took the walks with rubber bins.

The unappointed Duchess had an anointed mind; it was to direct the announcements of a mystery defect. She was confiscated wherever she was, appearing to seem.

Her greatest passion was

At the moment she is half green, with salad inflatables to the most mean. She likes to dress in outrage, but without a word; goes east to ply with southward; she found the Bakerloo.

The age of drugs had appeared with sober redress. Her guardians were better now, but all were orbit. I think I have louse; they say to think of it.

Every day the curtain sun flies; notice the primula tube.

Someone else said the eyes of the head; the back route.

However helpful Ulysees was with his fancy team, he had gone off with the whole exertion for rowing boats and flying shoes. That may have been Perseus or sink a bus, but the Mediterraneans required the security and weren’t at liberty.

What does the swish say?

Brothers with clever farms were clamouring prize; they were happier not to be directed and had their own satisfactions.

The unappointed Duchess was determined to route; set carriages up for the worst to be pooches. There goes muddle buck, what fun to.

On an awful day she had claimed the history prize. There had been a flashy afternoon in the park when striped pajamas dug the ark; they had been put to work in their bedclothes to incline the suffering, until it was a thing of growing beauty.

Rag and bone men from the continent; chambers of stabs the human cry; just to be pinned to the wall and confess; they were from the other side and did their best.

There were clues in the scenery, like tall pens.

It was pre 1695, because of the wires.

There weren’t wires then, so notes of construing.

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