88

Tired old hammerfed.

Drooping armspatts and a piddleshite.

88 tons of garbol and not a single buyer.

My horse bolted backsard on me and stole my ham. Now my leg runs on mump.

Thoe I cant think why they buy things like that. I have theorems and logica. My eyes speckled with glass thought and not a single buyer.

Spakkered old fagg. The car has a lost crump and my insurance runs out timelength. The sellersodd has bought my lunch and caked on it.