Thank you.
Back to brass tacks.
Need a menu, caterers are busy in Spring.
Idyllic local fare is a given and plentiful.
Pot luck for those with seafood allergies?
Gonna need a lot of BBQ.
The reasonable ones love to drop names, it lessens the load of looking in the mirror in the morning.
"Bury it."
Stupid fuckin bitch confessed and hung up.
Faces or voices cannot hide obvious relief.
The burden of wicked lie weighs always.
Releasing these treacherous ruses is soul saving work.
Pay attention.
Forgive one's self for the sins of family and the business of familY, being born in is a roYal pain in the ass.
Just grow up.
Many such cases.
A bevy of Pot luck salads from all over per request.
The last battle of the only war there ever really was or is, the most horrifying, dangerous and important battle in human history.
Victory is all there is.
Bring it.
Legendary Victory.
The most adept, (consensually uninitiated), rejoice at the discussion of the evil pedo-Satanists being torn asunder, the malevolent construct being universally, completely and mortally dismembered.
Blackmail doesn't work anymore, the floodgate switch is in the hands of the good and the golden, patriots.
Some read the map.
Flying permanently and loudly.
Carnival dreck, ignorable and sophomoric claptrap.
Life.