regourds to the epipath, phence me in to squash flowers I'll rope dance the golds into the green fleshy vegemeat to take a vegand for life, according to progressions as the regression proves one ought. listen, can you hear the statistics? they whir and spur and curdle to milk the mind of every calcified drop. spared me for what; a minuet, sixty beaten sands cash sin, heard casino bet on the frisk a rabbit foot to stew and rue and chew until the truth can be freed from the gut's bioluminescent bacteria.