While the city people from the ranch house barns to the church mouse naves were a sleep, I creeped to the beat of a criminal feet with some "evil heat."
I went for a drive surfing my ride on the ground tide of the lost and found bride.
I next, shifted my window shield "brillo" towards a mountainside silo. I was searching a handle for some countryside diamond scandals. You know, I was on the grind flirting with my mind behind the clever scheme mine.
When I was halfway in I tripped over the solid trapezoid bin. It was a thin pin in the middle of an alley cave hen. The bin turned out to be a "nail bed rail" that didn't quite sell a terrific hail. The anticipated bucket of a full size gemstone docket failed to tell of a money pail.
So I pulled up sail and bailed the phony smell trail to sniff the the next "heart spell."
Written by: Patrick James Quaker
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