the oxymoron of post-its

so that on the 95th slaughtering of the meteor prey my little woman happened to drop by to check on the cattle. this is her first. and for all its worth i’ve been living with the cathars of the curse for eternity and a sunset. so we ended up cavorting the centripetal decree of the goblets to reckon why every breathing soul must, with owing reference to the blogging terms and conditions and privacy policy, fall victim to loving. in its strictest sense of purpose, the function is that, that all and every song astray, may find adhesion. and the magnitude. is post-its.