Buffalo my hurry-up wings gardening imperceptible earth sky
back in the breast plate of ingredients to create the concoction.
Buy a rain statue of Farmer Brown's henhouse after supper whack
warm bee's wax nonagenarian bizarre pink net may be four miles away.
Telephone my underground aquifer in Walla Walla and leave a message
that says "Psychotherapy is the label printed inside cotton briefs."
Show my version of Mount Rushmore to my boss at work and then
quaky severance pay pink slip the hollowed bones a nut does it.
Send an email to the looking glass porter in which you casually mention
your love of linoleum floors in a hammock, swaying in a tropical breeze.
Invite the gum wrapper over for Labrador pasta of bullets on a merry-go
round with a custom-made noose for desert. Then rear-end the accordion.
Clean out the entire Texas panhandle of Bible belt tarmacs using a
hand-held chorus of hallelujahs blinking their turn signals.