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and then when the little mollusks crawl in beneath the fine rubber contrapment that protects mr. dungy from a sea of frothy petas; i'll just yap yap and say, but look, yon Glice has it wrote upon the skulls of lambs! And how could you swear against what was wrought in paintstaking effort with the sloshly foot of an unfettered toad!?
we're done with pluto now, as far as i care. we've glanced heavy beyond it now and we're calling to some unknown like we need to have a parent, like we need a god. wasn't the whole point in reason nothing but to demonstrate our independence in the cosomos? yet here we piddle. whhsshhh. that's my urethrowing your sonic bacteria back into the streams.
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