PAWRONGA CASAYNO

Glaring... warmth... and suddenly confusing, one last gripping real-pull of leverage to at most, give one his credit before one starts losing. After which a daunting overhand swing and a crash! Dastardly scrapping on backwards out into, a vast grazing of slanted such pursuasion, though braison, he must part and make way on, with a drift so swoon, cheifing the way thru R.J. Reynolds and Philip Morris smogged billowing kennels, suddenly gloom, an overcast has grown clutch on this moon. Now squinting and tearing, though shoving and peiring, still leary, he need set sights on the only one who he finds dearing and loving, now timely and rolling in white parted sheets, they connect on one another with heated retreat, no clinch! And then side by side they seat, in the mitst of becoming soaked in skid-row buffalo and wolf rain, land owls for towels to dry off two sets of shameless reigns, cash out now.... Walking away.