Be still my boggles for the twilight's nearing and in my home my whole johnson era screeches to a halt. All because I neglected the battery which only fully recharges with her handling. In lieu of palmistry we've gone to targeted obsessions and granite hard about that.

When wellness is welcomed, you ask "is it well with my soul?" and that starts this:
You take a stick of bamboo
you take a stick of bamboo
and put it in your pocket
thanks to Spiffy McWistful sans pockets. If the quest for wellness gets branded as faux-life extension, you may miss the green light produced by sincerity. When you are well, you take your sugar to tea, which here means relive the spectacular. When you're still travelling towards wellness, you add to the highlights by following the rules o'MDs.

Not essential that you dwell on your preference for jiggle more than sparkle. Those fireworks are so last millennium. The finish is more important than recently thought. My windows to the soul look normal after a long spell of cadaverous-like mirror gazes. no but it's movin' a little