Damn came to fuck up my happiness. Someone tried to fuck with me. In one word. I fully understand. Now it spread like a virus. Elaborate that. At least I think anyway.
Bits barfs on Betsy's binkie. Thereby Tom's tome is terribly tame. However, Harry's hair is harrying Harriet. Powerful pomades provide puffs of perfumery.
See, I can retard too. Yawn. Make a point or sew it shut.