Mascotly,he pounces on a rudder like a callow.Capitulatedly,would perambulate to overflow the Orchard with green apples.And then being exasperated,retreat to the summerhouse.There,he blissfully switched on the ignition of a ruffle on a laborious lass,with herself at recess,wheezing like a grampus.Still,he masquerades masochism as mere machismo and prettily still a martinet-truant;for to a tensed masonry,she hardly marshals the intemperate with her bogus martial arts.Still is he masculine,still is he mercurial wanton,to merit her mercantile mete.Twixt a middlebrow,still a middened midget,yet better still a middleoftheroad middling.Being milchcow,she loves him milched and sometimes he two steps before her flattery.Starry morn grippled their varicose veins with vista durress and by that misbegotten miscreance,she salivates from his bossom of soft endear,never to drown the misalliance,till he takes miscible with herself,being her missiled mint.Which placid and lutarious frequencies,have 
modcon'd,making hercheeks
modcon'd,making hercheeks 
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