Every wear I Luke icy Miss Steaks. How wood any won reed it if it was sew must up? I knead two order a way cup call four the mourning—the best thyme for editing. Know one can dew it fore me. Know one can fined the Miss Steaks in a man you script quite as well as yours truly. Bee sides, who maid awl the tie Poes, punk chew Asian errors, and ox ford dramas? He who spelt it, bot it. That’s how the sane goes. Or so eye heard.
Published by Kurt Gailey
This is where I'm supposed to brag about how I've written seven novels, twelve screenplays, thousands of short stories, four self-help books, and one children's early-reader, but I'd rather stay humble. You can find out about things I've written or follow my barchive (web archive, aka 'blog) at xenosthesia.com or follow me on twitter @kurt_gailey. I love sports and music and books, so if you're an athlete or in a band or you're a writer, give me a follow and I'll most likely follow you back. I've even been known to promote other people's projects.
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