“Is graduation ten letters because I want to make out?”
I live in a complex amidst one HEIRESS license plate.
Some veggie burgers are noticeably greener than others’ fart hallelujahs.
The ranch is not a condiment but Dent May’s flavor.
Spare washers, dryers do not count as cuddles or spouses.
I can climb inside a dumpster swearing WE A FARM.
Sweet potatoes act as babies when they are your stomach.
She says Marlboro after I sound it out for her.
The square is a skank away from a juice bar.
When you think of somewhere else, know you will soon.
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