Mister Bingham, did you recently have an argument with your wife, in which you threatened that you would, quote, “kill her gold-digging ass”?
Twister fling’em, I bid you decently half an hour you mint with your knife, and switch you Tibetan statue wood, goat, “thriller colt-pig alas”?
Unfortunately, the young exciting swine-horse hybrid and the rigid caprid
Alongside the blade and circuitry device belonging to you, sculpture, Tibet
While clothed, I proclaim some thirty minutes to the flavored candy in front of me
I urge the tornado to launch them…
I don’t understand the question.