Inbearable Likeness of Bean

I was wondering if anyone else ever has any bad days. All of the sudden, I supposably found myself between Iraq and a hard place. This didn’t bowed whale for me. Some guy had a ship on his shoulder, and he was getting on my lost nerve. I wondered how to handle this elevator in the room. The ball was in his cord, but there was no sense in being a dead horse. I felt like I was behind the aide ball.

I decided that a situation like this was part for the courts. It was no big dill – pizza cake. Still, we were whirls of part. If we worked together, we’d have a maid in the shave. I invited him for a drink, to try to talk a doubt. He excepted, and we went toad to toad for a few rounds before we actually began talking. We drank toes to each other, saying ‘here’s mutton you or I’.

The drinks were a red earring. I secretly wanted to loose in him up to get him to faze the muzak. I wanted him to pace the piper. He had done me wrong, and I wanted him to end off with the short into the stick. I pressured ahead, no holes barred, full steed ahead, take no prison nurse.

Things were touching goal for a while, but eventually he followed my trainer thought. I thought he would turn the tassels on me – that would be a fade worsen depth. I had my doubts, but everything went like gamebussers. It was poultry in motion. He was pudding his plates, and I was a side to be hoed.

That is how I overcame diversity to come ahead of my fallow man. He was slept behind, and I went on to big urine better things.


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