#many death & murder warnings for general discussions w her

[uuninsane]

RAE KWON. / the black dahlia

don't blame him, all the blues i have these days, no, it's not on him, no, no - bibi

black dahlia ; scentless flower. what purpose do you serve ?

short sum: a girl born to a career criminal father turned informant, grew up most of her life in witness protection, learning how to defend herself and act normal. scooped up by red eye after her father was taken from her. she leads a double life, a capable and spiteful person, who grew up the hard way and learned from those lessons. restoring art for a living, punishing the occasional criminal for a hobby.

(full & more detailed about to be found HERE).

[kotokoharrow]

Case Study 001: Haruka Sakurai

Note that this analysis is based around my own views. I do not present my way of interpreting Haruka as fact, and I am sharing this to see if others agree with me. If you disagree, you are more than welcome to say so and we can discuss it!

Content Warning: This analysis contains discussion of: Animal abuse and death, child abuse and death, emotional abuse, child neglect, murder, flashbacks and nightmares. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to any of these topics!

Evidence List:

Haruka’s Profile

Haruka’s Voice Drama

Undercover

Weakness

Two Breaths Walking

Voice Line

Timeline Convo

Character Analysis

A young male prisoner, quiet with downcast eyes. During Es’ early interrogations, he offered only a few constrained words in response. However, he has gradually become more talkative, forming an emotional bond over the course of his interviews. Once one begins to converse with him, his gentle pre-disposition is revealed.

He has a meek temperament and, even in Milgram, does not appear to be dissatisfied. Barely manages to communicate with Es and the other prisoners. However, during conversations, as if some meaning is lost along the way, there is a disconnect.

Haruka is a teenager with a very low opinion of himself, shown in his attitude in his voice drama and the lyrics of his song. When he appears in Undercover, he is shown wringing his hands together, avoiding looking at the camera, and when he finally does shows an unhappy expression. These pieces of his body language show that he is an anxious boy.

Haruka doesn’t appear to be very bright, with his song being written in hiragana, and he struggles to follow along with everything that Es says to him in his voice drama. He even says himself that he isn’t very bright. However, this is likely a result of his mother’s treatment of him, as he hasn’t been allowed to develop as he should have.

The shot in Undercover that shows his room shows young children’s toys on the floor. This, along with his speech patterns, show that he remains in a child’s mindset, despite being 17 years old. I believe that this is due to him becoming ‘stuck’ at an age where he experienced a traumatic event as a child - the event that revolved around fireworks and the girl in his MV.

Haruka’s primary motivation is love. He was neglected and emotionally abused by his mother his whole life, and so has been deprived of the love that most people receive from their parents. Despite love being his motivation, he shows in his interrogation questions that he doesn’t really understand what it is - he just knows that he wants it.

While his primary motivation is love, Haruka’s primary fear is abandonment. He is also afraid of being deceived, which again ties into his fear of abandonment. Haruka believes that everyone will leave him when they learn what he has done, and also believes that he will bring misfortune to others. This belief of bringing misfortune to others is likely a belief that his mother gave to him.

Haruka avoids situations and things that remind him of his trauma, such as animals and small children. This, as well as imagery in his MV, his mother’s treatment of him and his general personality, lead me to believe that he experiences PTSD.

The kanji in his given name means ‘far’ or ‘distant’, which likely references his personality, and the fact that he finds it difficult to get close to and communicate with others, due to having been deprived of connections for most of his life.

MV Analysis

I believe that Weakness takes place after Haruka has committed his crimes, and that it’s showing events from his past in the form of nightmares and flashbacks, which is why they appear distorted and there is heavy symbolism. As a result of this, even what we see in the MV is ambiguous as to whether it really happened, as dreams are not always literal and even with flashback-type nightmares, key facts can appear different to what happened in reality.

At the beginning of the MV, we see Haruka sitting in front of a dressing table, looking at himself in the mirror. The table is likely his mothers, as the perfume bottles on it seem to belong to a woman. Behind Haruka, we can see a window that shows that it’s daytime, but when his reflection in the mirror changes into his younger self, we can see that it is night-time outside (with red sky and a full moon). As the image changes, I believe this is Haruka experiencing a flashback, or perhaps a sign that he is having a nightmare.

I also believe that Haruka experiences PTSD as a result of his mother being emotionally abusive and neglectful towards him. I believe that this mistreatment when he was a young child explains a lot of his current personality - his behaviour fits in well with the behaviours of people who survive emotional abuse (doubting his own perception of things, a very strong negative opinion of himself, fear of abandonment).

There are many lyrics in Weakness that I believe point towards Haruka’s mother being emotionally abusive. The notable ones to me are: ‘Tell me, why are you drifting away from me? / Tell me, why do you say it’s my fault?’ and ‘If I tried and couldn’t say it / You would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless”’. I believe that these lyrics are directed at Haruka’s mother.

As for imagery in the MV, when Haruka initially falls backwards from the dressing table, he falls into the liquid from his mother’s perfume, which shows how her treatment of him has surrounded him. Later, while he’s walking alongside her happily, she barely looks back down at him, and when adult Haruka pushes his younger self back, the following image is shown:

I believe the drawing in the background is meant to be Haruka’s mother, and his cruel treatment of his younger self is meant to show that he has internalised his mother’s abuse, going on to blame and punish himself for what he believes she would blame and punish him for.

Later, it shows Haruka as a child watching the fireworks with a girl his own age, whose face is blacked out like his mother’s. While it’s not clear what exactly happened, something bad happened to the girl, and she vanished from his life.

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think that Haruka killed the girl. I think something bad happened to her - possibly she even died - and that Haruka blames himself for what happened, whether fairly or unfairly. I believe that what happened was traumatic to Haruka, and he tried to avoid thinking about the bad part by focusing on his memory of the fireworks, which is a part of his denial.

Later, Haruka is petting a dog with his mother. Then, he goes outside to search for the dog, and comes across the dog’s body. Initially, I believed that Haruka had killed the dog, and I still think that this is a highly likely theory, as yellow roses are seen (which in flower language used to represent jealousy), and the lyrics that play during this point are ‘You praised me by saying “You’re crazy” / Thank you, I’ll do my best’ which, to me, alludes to children acting out for attention when they are being neglected, because due to the lack of positive attention they begin to see all forms of attention as a good thing, including negative attention.

However, in the timeline conversations, there is an exchange between Haruka and Shidou where Haruka has bloodied hands, and he tells a concerned Shidou that it comes from a bad habit of his, that when he’s tense he clenches his fists and his nails dig into his palms, causing them to appear bloodied.

Shidou: Sakurai-kun...? Could you show me your hand? Haruka: Hei!? No, this isn’t... it’s n-nothing... Shidou: Lend it to me. ...Your palm is covered in blood. Let’s have it disinfected. This... has it always been like this? Haruka: A-ah... I-it’s a habit... W-When I feel tense I grip my hands really tight, and my nails...

This detail has caused me to wonder if Haruka didn’t actually kill the dog. We see child Haruka looking for the dog nervously, and then appearing horrified when he finds the dogs corpse, then he looks down at his hands and sees blood on them. We also only see adult Haruka bludgeoning the dog. It’s common for people with PTSD to re-experience trauma from different perspectives, or with details changed, so it’s possible that Haruka did not kill the dog.

However, at this point, I think either explanation could be possible, so I’ll leave both of those theories here and move on.

Later, when it shows adult Haruka strangling child Haruka, I believe that this is when Haruka’s Milgram murder takes place. Before he begins strangling his child self, he is seen looking at a memory of himself being ignored by his mother, and becomes enraged, lashing out at his child self and strangling him, seemingly in an act of self-loathing.

However, I believe that Haruka is actually murdering his mother, having finally snapped and let out all of his repressed feelings. After the murder is over, I believe that Haruka was so horrified by what he did, he went into denial - which is something he has practice from doing his whole life - and the details of what he did became distorted.

In conclusion, I believe the following:

The MV takes the form of Haruka’s nightmares, which is why it’s ambiguous, unreliable and distorted

Haruka was emotionally abused and neglected by his mother since childhood

Haruka didn’t kill the girl, but he does blame himself for what happened to her

EITHER: Haruka killed the dog to try and get his mother to notice him, OR Haruka didn’t kill the dog but still in some way blames himself for the dog’s death

Haruka killed his mother directly due to his repressed feelings of anger towards her for abusing and neglecting him

Haruka is horrified by what he did, and on some level is in denial of the facts of what happened

Misc Analysis

Undercover

Haruka’s bedroom has toys that would be more appropriate in the bedroom of a young child. This shows that he is mentally stuck in a child-like state. Interestingly, there is also a drawing of a tree with two snakes that also appears during his MV. I don’t know what this means.

Haruka is shown strangling Es, which backs up the idea that Haruka’s murder happened when he was shown strangling his child self. Haruka’s mouth is wide open, showing that his murder involved heightened emotion on his part. This wasn’t a cold and calculated murder, this was a spur-of-the-moment response to something.

Interrogation Questions

I’m picking a few notable interrogation questions to analyse. In general, though, Haruka’s answers were much simpler than Yuno’s, which shows his child-like mindset and difficulty in understanding things.

Q: If one of your wishes could be granted, what would it be? A: I want to be loved.

Pretty straightforwards. This shows Haruka’s core motivation is to be loved.

Q: When was your first love? A: I don’t know.

Q: What’s the difference between romantic love and just love? A: Don’t they both mean that you like someone?

Q: What’s your ideal date plan? A: I don’t understand.

Despite his core motivation being wanting to be loved, Haruka doesn’t understand much about love, due to having been deprived of it his whole life.

Q: What kind of person is your father? A: I disappointed him.

This is the only time we hear of Haruka’s father. I’d guess that his mother blamed Haruka for his father leaving them, and that’s why he believes that he disappointed his father.

Q: Have you ever had a pet before? A: I have not.

Q: What is your favourite animal? A: I don’t like animals.

Q: What are some things you can’t deal with? A: Small children and animals.

Haruka denies any incident that was traumatic to him.

Q: What do you think of your family? A: I love them.

Despite having been deprived of love from his mother, he still says he loves them.

Q: Tell us what you enjoy doing. A: I like talking with the other prisoners.

Haruka talks about what he’s been doing since coming to Milgram, which implies that he didn’t have much he enjoyed doing beforehand.

Two Breaths Walking

A song about a boy meeting a girl. The girl tries to teach the boy about life, but due to the boy’s mother having taught him about life wrongly, he struggles to understand, and as a result ends up hurting the girl.

With Haruka as the boy, the girl in his MV as the girl, and his mother as the boy’s mother, this directly parallels Haruka’s MV. There isn’t much to talk about, because the parallels are pretty direct. It backs up the idea that Haruka’s mother was abusive, teaching him wrongly through her abuse and neglect.

Voice Drama

Es: Now, let’s begin the interrogation. Prisoner Number 1, Haruka. Haruka: O-Okay… I-I’m sorry… Es: Huh? Do you have something to apologise for? Haruka: U-uh, no… I’m sorry.

This shows us Haruka’s submissive personality. This kind of apologising for any perceived fault is very common in survivors of emotional abuse, because they learnt in the abusive environment that their abuser could find fault in anything, and to lower the severity of abuse, they would apologise. However, as this level of apologising isn’t needed or expected in regular situations, when it carries over it stands out.

Haruka: Ah, uh, um… I didn’t understand whatever it was you were saying. It was difficult. Es: Huh? Haruka: Uh, um… I’m sorry. I’m not that bright. Es: Haruka. What age are you? Haruka: Um… 17 years old, I think. Es: You think? Haruka: Uh, well… I have no interest in my age… I’m sorry.

Haruka isn’t used to having to think for himself, which is also common in survivors of emotional abuse. Abusers try to make their victims dependent on them, they may try to make decisions for their victims, or in the case of abusive parents may speak for them and deprive their children of the ability to develop. Taking into account Haruka’s cover song, I think it’s likely that this was the case with his mother.

Es: The only name left that hasn’t been said is Amane. Haruka: A-Amane. Es: What’s wrong? Haruka: I-I’m not good with them. Children at that age. A-Amane is a good girl, but she brings back b-bad memories.

This is most likely referring to whatever happened with the girl in Haruka’s MV. Haruka avoids thinking about traumatic incidents, even in his nightmares he avoids the details of them. Avoiding triggers of traumatic events is a symptom of PTSD.

Haruka: It’ll happen sometime. I… I… Even though I try to be normal, everything gets ruined. You, everyone, if you knew me… If you knew everything that I did… I’m… gonna be abandoned, that’s bound to happen. Because I’m a selfish killer.

Due to his abuse, Haruka solely blames himself for everything that happens. It’s likely that his mother blames him even for things that weren’t his fault, so this thought process stuck. Haruka’s primary motivation is love, and his biggest fear is abandonment.

Glitched Voice Line

Then what should I have done instead!? Tell me! Tell me so even I can understand!

I believe that this line from Haruka is addressed to his mother who he killed. He felt that he had no way to gain her love, and he is looking to her to tell him what to do.

Other Theories

Twin Theory

A theory I’ve seen says that the child in Haruka’s MV isn’t Haruka as a child, and is actually his twin. I don’t think we have any evidence to support this. I think that, given how much of Haruka’s MV is made up with abstract imagery, we should be careful with interpreting it too literally.

Autistic Haruka Theory

I have no issue with people seeing Haruka as being autistic, however, all of the theories about him being autistic seem to come from an outdated view of autism. I am autistic myself, and while I can recognise a lot of autistic traits in Haruka’s behaviour, I don’t think autism is what they were going for. I think that Haruka’s ‘autistic traits’ are, instead, supposed to show that he’s in a child-like mentality after a trauma that took place in his childhood, and that his behaviour has been strongly influenced by his abusive mother. I believe we have evidence that points towards this specifically, but no evidence that points specifically towards Haruka being autistic.

Unexplained

Why does Haruka say that his hands bleed when he’s nervous and what connection does that have to the blood on his hands in the MV?

What is the significance of the necklace that Haruka wears?

What is the significance of the girl in the MV?

What happened while watching the fireworks?

Did Haruka kill the girl?

What’s the significance of the tree and the snakes?

Final Verdict

My Verdict: Innocent.

I’m very glad that the popular vote determined that Haruka was innocent! My major reasons for this are: 

1. His MV is the most abstract right now - it’s unclear exactly what happened, so any judgement based on his crime is going to be difficult. 2. For Haruka to open up more, I think he needs to be reassured that he will not be abandoned. I think that Haruka’s second MV will give us more details, because we have reassured him that he will not be abandoned.

Thank you for reading this ridiculously long thing! I hope to write these for all of the prisoners, and eventually catch up to where we currently are with the voting! If you enjoyed my analysis, please consider sharing so it can reach a wider audience!

[dastardlydandelion]

medium luci

ao3 link

content warnings: homophobia, comphet, child abuse, abusive relationships

It’s rare that Susan and Neil have the same weekday off. Neil typically works five days a week and she three or four, depending who’s on staff, being that she’s only part-time. But he’d had a dentist appointment midmorning so he’d taken today off and decided to make his hours up by volunteering for a double next week.

Susan doesn’t typically care to spend any extra time alone with her husband. They have so little to talk about these days, now that he doesn’t try to butter her up or feed her honey sweet lies as much as he used to. Now that Neil doesn’t care to talk much at all unless ranting or complaining about the various things he doesn’t like, his son’s style of dress, women who sit with their legs open, cab drivers who don’t speak English. Susan doesn’t even remember the last time Neil had to take a cab but he has strong opinions on them nonetheless, and the list goes on and on.

He thankfully hasn’t done much of that today, however. He’d parked himself in front of the television after coming home from his appointment and simply nodded when Susan announced she was going out to garden. She only comes inside when she hears the phone ring and by the time she’s walking up the back steps, Neil’s already answered it.

She watches his expression change as he converses with whomever’s on the other end, nervousness fluttering in her chest as his eyes widen, then harden.

“I’ll be right there,” Neil concludes as he hangs up, turning those hard eyes onto Susan. “That was the school.”

“Oh dear…what’s Billy done this time?”

“Not Billy.” Neil shakes his head and Susan’s heart drops with the realization her husband isn’t just irritated but seething, knuckles blanched as his hands ball into tight fists. “Maxine. Did you know the Sinclairs have a girl around her age?”

“N-No, I didn’t. I’m not very familiar with them, Neil.” Susan never had much luck getting close to anyone anymore, not in the least because of Neil himself.

“Apparently Maxine is,” he declares icily. “A teacher caught her and the Sinclair girl fornicating under the bleachers.”

Susan’s heart turns to stone and sinks into her stomach.

No.

Please, no.

Neil has very strong opinions about sexuality in general and homosexual conduct in particular, and Susan can practically feel the outrage radiating from him. It crackles in the air like the promise of a lightning storm. Neil’s fists are still clenched and his posture goes taut like it always does before he explodes.

“W-Well,” Susan begins, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

She hates herself for what she is going to say. She says it anyway.

“Well, you know where she learned that kind of b-behavior from, don’t you?”

Because if Neil is going to explode, Susan can’t stop him. But she hopes she can at least encourage the worst of it away from Max. She watches Neil’s eyes flicker and knows they’re both remembering the day they came home early from the short vacation they’d taken for their fifth anniversary, a girl and a boy sneaking out of Billy’s bedroom window, neither particularly clothed. She watches the angry bulge of the vein pulsing in his neck and knows they’re both thinking of that short young fellow with the skateboard who worked at the used car lot during the day and spent his time with Billy during the night.

“Yes, I know exactly where she learned it from. I’m picking both of them up and we’re all going to have a family discussion.”

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Neil holds up his hand. “Stay here, Susan. We’ll be back soon enough.”

Neil has gun powder in his gaze and she dares not argue. She lowers her head and steps aside when he walks past to fetch the truck keys from the hook. He stomps down the steps and slams the backdoor shut behind him.

Susan watches through the window as he gets into the truck and pulls out of the driveway, feeling dreadfully ill. She doesn’t mean what she’d said, of course. There are a number of behaviors that Max has picked up from Billy, but that isn’t one of them. If anyone is to blame, Susan supposes it’s herself for passing it along intrinsically.

She has her own secret desires locked away within the chambers of her heart. Desire she dares not confront for her own sanity, for her own safety. She’s never acted on her wants, always chose to play private games of hide and seek with them in her head instead, those insidiously innocent wishes of hers. Never spoken aloud let alone pursued those urges that flush hot beneath her skin when she finds her eyes drawn to other women’s lips, hips, breasts.  

Susan gave it to Max and unlike her, Max is brash and bold and brave. God save her, Max does what she wants to do and doesn’t care what other people think. Susan would admire her for it if it didn’t scare her to death.

Because Neil does care what other people think. He cares very much. And Susan’s seen him annoyed with Max in the past. She’s seen him frustrated with Max, displeased, exasperated. But never has she seen the silent stirring of a reign of rage to come where Max is concerned, never has she known that particular look in Neil’s eye to be directed Max’s way. She can only hope—

Oh, it’s such a despicable thing to hope for. Susan has poison in her soul, she swears she must. But Billy isn’t remotely hers and Max very much is.

* * * 

Susan doesn’t know if it was actually her remark that spurred Neil to turn the blame on Billy or if this was the conclusion he would’ve come to anyway. Neil often blames Max’s mishaps and mischiefs on Billy. Billy being the older sibling meant to lead by example. Billy being the older brother, meant to keep his younger sister out of trouble to begin with.

Her remark or Neil’s default thought process, in any case, it’s Billy he’s glaring at in the living room. Angrily dictates that Billy take off his shirt, belt in hand. Susan grabs a very pale Max’s shoulders and begins to usher her down the hall.

“Where are you taking Maxine?”

Susan freezes, mouth going dry.

Neil’s looking their way now, brow arched, stern and skeptical.

“I-I—“

“She isn’t going to learn if she doesn’t watch, Susan,” he declares with no room for argument. “Bring her back.”

Susan swallows, hands tightening on Max’s shoulders. Something dies inside her when she turns her daughter around. She buries it silently as she’s buried so many other pieces before and avoids Max’s eyes boring into her as she marches her back to the living room. Neil motions for them to sit on the couch, sunlight glinting off the metal buckle. Billy doesn’t bother to disguise his disdain, glaring murder, nostrils flaring like an ornery bovine. Susan suspects he’ll pay for this too.

“Your behavior today was beyond inappropriate, Maxine,” Neil tells her coldly. “Unnatural, disgusting, absolutely unacceptable.”

Max squirms next to Susan, hands tucking under her thighs. She is stone faced but this close, Susan can feel her shaking.

“Now, I know it’s not all your fault. Big Brother here’s taught you—“

“I didn’t teach her shit!” Billy cuts him off, sharp and acidic. “I told her to steer clear from Sinclair, this isn’t on me!”

Neil punches his son in the stomach with all the affect of swatting a fly, once, twice. Susan flinches. Billy’s gasping, breath knocked out of him. He staggers and Neil viciously shoves him to the floor.

“She saw you with that faggot’s tongue down your throat, don’t think I don’t know! I know you, I know the kind of shit you think you can get away with behind my back!” Neil roars like thunder. “Well, now it’s my turn to teach her a thing or two! Pay attention, Maxine!”

Max stiffens beside her. She opens her mouth to protest and Susan grabs her arm, sinking her nails in. Startled, Max's eyes dart to her. Susan gives a tiny shake of the head, urging her not to speak. Max bends her elbow like a chicken wing and jerks her arm out of Susan’s grasp. Ire flares in her gaze but she holds her tongue. She does not challenge Neil as he begins beating Billy with the belt.

Susan can’t watch. She lowers her eyes to the floor. She can see the movement in the shadows, Neil’s rapid whipping of the improvised weapon and Billy’s form jolting with the blows. Susan shuts her eyes to the shadows but she can still hear it, thick, hard leather striking bare flesh.

“Don’t turn away, Maxine,” Neil barks at some point between the sounds of violence.

Billy doesn’t cry out. Eventually it’s over. Susan raises her head and cannot bear more than a glance at her stepson braced on his hands and knee. The belt now rests at Neil’s side and still, her stomach is churning.

“If there is ever a repeat of the conduct you displayed today, there will be consequences. Is that understood, Maxine?”

Max looks to Susan. Her eyes are wavering. Then they glean whatever it is they were searching for from Susan’s and harden.

“Yes,” she mumbles.

“Yes, what?”

Max clears her throat.

“Yes, sir,” she corrects, louder and clearer.

“Both of you to your rooms,” he commands. “I want both of you to reflect on your actions until it’s time for dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy answers this time, climbing to his feet in the corner of Susan’s eye. She remains on the couch as her daughter rises and plods down the hall, cheeks as red as the cherry atop a sundae. Flushed as red as the welts on Billy’s back that have Susan’s stomach in ropes even though she only spares a brief glance.

Neil sets the belt aside and plops down in his armchair. “Can you get me a beer, Susan?”

She nods and rises, quietly fetching one. Pops the tab and then passes it to him before she excuses herself. In times like this, Susan wants to leave more than anything. She wants to grab Max and take her far, far away. But she can’t imagine they would get anywhere, truly.

Neil controls the finances. Susan makes less money than he does and every cent she does earn inevitably winds up under Neil’s attentive purview. In a distant, ostensible kind of way Susan understands there are shelters for women in her situation. Shelters out there, somewhere…aren’t there? For her situation?

Neil hasn’t actually put his hands on her. Not yet. Not like what he just did to Billy. Hasn’t actually done so to Max, although the threat of that unfolded in the living room in a way that could not be more crystal clear. The threat alone feels like a fist to Susan, invisible fist clenched tight around her insides and squeezing so hard she's nauseous.  

Is the threat enough? Would Susan and Max be accepted on the basis of threats alone?

Provided she could ever find such a place to begin with. Susan doesn’t have the faintest clue of where to look for what feels more like a nebulous fantasy of a sanctuary than a tangible reality. A shimmering oasis in the desert. Even if she were to locate such a place, what if it were at full capacity?

What if she and Max got turned away?

That would mean choosing between being homeless or going back to Neil. Going back to Neil after a failed escape would certainly mean him making good on all those threats of his, the ones verbal and non. The examples explicit in his words and implicit in his actions. Above all, any failed escape would certainly ensure there would be no second escape.

Susan isn’t going anywhere. And neither is Max. The very notion is abstract and distorted, floating just out of reach in a gaussian blur of a wish. Their home isn’t a good home. But it is the home they have and so, Susan will simply have to do her best to make sure Max never does anything like this again. That Max never does anything to get Neil’s attention like that, nothing to stoke the coals always smoldering in his choleric soul. That as painful as it's sure to be, Max learns to keep certain parts of herself under lock and key.

When dinner is in the oven and Neil is engrossed in his program, Susan slips off to Max’s bedroom. She knocks quietly and lets herself in. Her throat knots up at the tear tracks on her daughter’s cheeks, far more gutting than the way she bristles as Susan steps closer, the sheer hurt in her eyes.

“What do you want?”

The same things as you, Susan thinks irresistibly. And I’d go after them too, if I didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

Max huffs and turns away. “Whatever.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not. You’re just like Neil, you think I’m disgusting,” Max spits, hiking her legs up on the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. “You think Billy’s disgusting too, you couldn’t even look at him.”

“No, I don’t…oh, Max.” Susan swallows and lowers herself to a sit beside her on the bed, gently placing a hand on her knee. She swallows her heartbreak when Max’s eyes flash as though the touch scalds her. “Neil and I disagree about many things. This is one of them.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” The blaze in Max’s eyes dies down, voice softening to cinders. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Oh, he’s so much bigger than me, Max.” Susan sags with familiar defeat. “And I— I don’t think it’s wrong, you and this girl.”

“Lucy.”

“I’m sure Lucy is lovely,” leaves Susan’s lips, this fragile whisper she dares not tempt fate to speak above. “I could never think that you’re disgusting. But I’m just me, Max, and Neil is bigger, and the world…the world too, is so much bigger than I am. You can’t— never, ever in public.”

Max’s eyes widen. Susan shifts on the bed and moves her hands, finds both of Max’s and squeezes tight.

“You cannot be open with feelings like that. You can’t take girls to your school dances, you can’t kiss them where other people could see.”

Max lets out an angry growl even as her eyes well up.

“It’s not fair!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“I know.” She knows, oh, she knows, she’s never not choking on it.

Max chews her lip, scarlet and fuming. Susan halfway expects her daughter to headbutt her or holler right in her ear until she deafens. But after a moment it’s almost as if Max can decode all the things she cannot say because her hands twist under Susan’s and intertwine their fingers.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 3)

Warnings: addiction, mentions of murder

Author notes: here is part 3...! It is a quieter part compared to the previous one, I hope you’ll like it!

We went back early enough for me to take a small shower and trade my shirt for a clean one. The doctor wanted to meet me in front of the dorms at half past seven, which also allowed me to have breakfast. While I was getting prepared, Dazai had gone to his bedroom to rest, but I was convinced he had most certainly fallen asleep. He rarely did sleep, even when he felt exhausted, so I hoped he could at least close his eyes without becoming an easy prey for his nightmares. I took a deep breath and exited his apartment to start my day, which would be the first of my therapy, too. I had not slept at all, yet I felt more energised than ever, and determined to finally turn a page of my life to start anew.

As expected Yosano-sensei was there, easily recognisable by the peculiar hairpin in the shape of a butterfly she wore everyday. I walked towards her, and greeted her with my brightest smile.

"Good morning sensei…!"

"Ogawa…! Just on time…! Today—"

She stopped, then grabbed my chin to take a closer look at my face. She narrowed her eyes, annoyance clearly changing her expression.

"... Are you kidding me, Ogawa…?"

"W-Well…"

"You didn't sleep, did you?" She clicked her tongue "I refuse to start your treatment today. You'll only feel pain, and it won't help at all."

"I see… I should have expected as much…"

"It doesn't matter." She patted my shoulder lightly "You surely had something important to do… I still have something to show you, though…!"

"And I'm impatient to see what it is…!"

She took a couple of keys out of her pocket, then led me towards the door to an apartment. I first thought it was her place, but that guess was pushed aside the moment I saw the room was empty. With a smile, she showed me around, and I quickly understood what was happening.

"Is that… My future home…?"

"You're wrong." She corrected me "It's not your "future" home, it's your home from now on. The former resident has just left, so you can use it."

"But… I don't have enough money to rent it… I thought that was why I was still living at Dazai's…"

"Money isn't an issue since the Agency pays for us. It was simply a matter of freeing some space for you. And, at last, it happened…!" She exclaimed, rather proudly "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it…? I love it…!" I answered, wholeheartedly "I finally have a home… Ever since I was born, no place had ever felt so warm… I'm so glad, thank you, Yosano-sensei…!"

"I'm happy for you, then." She smiled "You already have a futon, and a table. You can add other furniture when you have enough money to buy some."

"Yes…! I can already picture a bookshelf right here… It would be filled with books… And a pillow too, to create a cosy reading space…" I imagined.

"That's not a bad idea." She agreed "Oh, and… Look inside the wardrobe."

I was curious, so I did just as she said and opened it, only to find a set of new and colourful clothes. There were a few identical white shirts, as well as a navy blue suit composed of a jacket and a pair of pants. I looked at the doctor, astonished.

"Sensei, I… That's so much… I can't accept it…"

"It's a late welcome gift to the Agency." She said softly "Your clothes are… Well, I'm not sure you can call them clothes anymore… This is a new life, you need some changes."

"Even so, they are so beautiful…"

"You also have a new pair of shoes at the entrance, although you were too amazed by the place to notice them." She chuckled "I'd also like to do something for your hair… But let's wait for that addiction  to go away first."

"I agree… I'll really be freed when morphine won't control my life anymore."

"That's right. For now, you should rest. Have some sleep, too. I'll see you tomorrow at the Agency for your treatment."

"Thank you again, sensei… Oh, and… I have a case, too… A request from a friend… I have to go to Hokkaido by the end of the week." I remembered.

"I see… Do you think you can handle this while following your therapy…? It might be too hard…"

"I want to be cured. And I can't go back on my word. Besides, it is rather urgent, since someone's life is at stake. I'll manage, somehow." I assured her.

"If you say so, I have no other choice but to trust you." She nodded "See you tomorrow at the Agency, we'll discuss the case and prepare for your departure."

"Yes, sensei…!" I smiled at her "See you tomorrow…!

As soon as I closed the door behind her, a feeling of relief and joy overwhelmed me. I had a new place… My own place, one I would call "home", where I would go back to, where I would hide from the world… Since I had been generously given a day off, I grabbed my keys, enjoying the light tinting sound they made between my fingers, and decided to head off. I at least needed to buy a teapot and a book to occupy my quiet day, before starting one of the toughest times of my life, my therapy. I had lived in the streets, killed people for the Port Mafia and had even merely escaped from death, yet separating myself from morphine seemed like an impossible challenge to overcome. The simple thought of not getting my injection anymore made me crave the sweet sensation provided by the product, and I immediately stopped in my tracks. After all, it would only start the next day… For the moment, I was still an addict and had the right to consume morphine. For the moment…

Once the drug was freely flowing in my vessels, I was ready to leave and go shopping. I also needed to fill my empty fridge, and Uemura-san's store seemed like the perfect place to spend my money. He knew me, and it would not be an issue to use the laundered money I had earned from the Port Mafia. From an illegal point of view, I was pretty rich, but it was money I could never use, except with a few rare people. The man welcomed me warmly, glad that I had finally settled down somewhere.

"And how is my disciple? I hope he takes good care of you." He said, scanning the price of my purchase.

"He does." I told him "He's too worried about me for my liking, but I suppose I can't help it… I'm touched, but…"

I sighed. I could not say it made me feel irrational when it came to Dazai…

"He can be pretty insistent." He shrugged "I think you remind him of his sister, that's why."

"His what…?" I frowned.

"He didn't tell you? Well… He had an older sister, back then… She was very kind, and lived absolutely unaware of her brother's activity. A nice girl, really…"

I took the bag he handed me.

"What happened to her?"

"She met a man. The wrong one. She went on a date with him and her body was discovered the next day. Her head, however… It was never found."

I felt a shiver running down my spine, then recalled the case. It was a famous one, I had heard about it, even in the Port Mafia. The culprit was a serial killer, and had never been arrested…

"He was only seventeen back then… A young teen with an incredible gift for his current activity… It left him with quite a trauma."

"I see… That serial killer…"

I clenched my fist. I was not one to work for justice, nor to defend Yokohama, but, somehow, it angered me that such an awful man was still running free in the world. Besides, since the case of the Fox's sister, many other headless female bodies had been found in our city… It was strange that the Agency and Ranpo-san had not already arrested the criminal… Maybe he had not been requested to work on the case, after all…

"Well, now, you may understand his behaviour better. Don't tell him that I told you." He winked.

"I won't." I promised "Oh, and, thanks for your advice. About cooking, I mean."

"Don't worry about that…!" He chuckled "I can't let you eat junk food everyday after all. Besides, if you want to start a new life, you've got to start by eating better…!"

"Still, thank you." I smiled "I'm very grateful that you support me so much… I'm not sure if I deserve your kindness… But I'll try to be worth it."

"You sought my support, and I am glad to give it to you." He patted my shoulder "Do your best. You're a good person, Ogawa."

"Thank you, Uemura-san… Thank you…"

It felt comforting to have someone who believed in me and in the fact I was able to redeem myself, somehow. I had never been a good person, and it was a lie to say that the Port Mafia had turned an innocent girl into a monster, for that beast had always lied dormant within me. However, being given a chance to be a better human was something I would forever be grateful for. We all had the right to change, after all…

When I came back to the dormitory, I instinctively walked towards Dazai's door, before remembering the reason I had gone out was to slowly inhabit my own place. Delighted, I inserted my key into the lock to open my door, and immediately relished in the quiet atmosphere of the room. Slowly, I removed my shoes and went to my fridge, feeling oddly satisfied as I placed the diverse vegetables and goods I had bought for the first time. I had never gone grocery shopping before… The only shop I had ever visited was an old pharmacy to buy morphine with a forged prescription. Even so, the pharmacist had never taken a look at the said prescription, too eager to chase an addict away from his store quickly, which explained why I had never lacked pain relievers despite leaving the Mafia. Truly, it felt… Normal.

Delicately, I unpacked the kettle Uemura-san had given me to celebrate my new place. With it, boiling water would be so much easier, and making tea would only take a blink. Five months ago, when I had just become a detective, I had decided to stop drinking alcohol whenever I needed a distraction from the world. Yosano-sensei had strongly warned me about the state of my liver, and I had decided to listen to her. Following her advice, I had discovered tea, which had then slowly replaced sake and whisky, although I still drinked alcohol from time to time. Immediately, I prepared a cup of tea, ready to relax for the rest of the day, before realising that I had forgotten to stop by the bookstore to buy the first book I would read in my new home. It was important to me, and I needed time to choose… Thus, I prepared to leave again, but when I opened the door, a small package had been placed in front of it, accompanied by a note.

"Welcome, neighbour!"

I giggled as I recognised Dazai's handwriting, and unwrapped the gift. It was a book, of course… The mystery I had been reading just the previous evening, and which I had yet to solve. That one would be the first book of my home, and it was not a bad thing that it was one I would continue. Because I now had a home, it did not mean I had to start everything anew… With a slight smile, I went back inside. Finally, I was ready to spend a relaxing day off, the last one before a series of troubles. Even so, I knew that everything would be fine, eventually.

[capitainecorbeau]

K you know what I tried to write a steam review but it turned out way too long so here you go ! (the random italics/bold are here for readability, it’s LONG and I know wall of texts can be hard to digest)

I want to like this game, I really do. There was obviously a lot of love poured into it, and there ARE some stuff in it that are pretty cool and made me happy... but overall it just... not very good.

Buckle in, it's gonna be a long one. Also light spoiler warnings, I'll try to stay vague, but I am going to discuss some plot points. Also tw for mentions of mental illness and harmful tropes relating to it.

GAMEPLAY : this is, IMO, the worst part of the game. They tried to spruce up the ol' jRPG/tactical RPG formula, but the result dosn't work.

Reason 1 : The combat is extremly unsatisfying. Like, in every single rpg I've played, even the more lackluster ones, there was always a couple a ways to deal significantly more damage to the enemy. It could be a weakness/resistance system, critical hits, buffs, a gauge that when filled lets you unleash more powerful attacks, grouped attack, etc etc. Inkenfell doesn't really has that.

Ok so, when you time your attacks, there are three results : oops, when you mess up, nice and great. Except that great, the best you can get, feels like what bog-standard attacks do in other rpgs. There is no significant difference between nice and great. I ended up very quickly setting the timing on auto (every signle attack is "great") because it felt like they just added an extra tedious step to the usual menu-based combat. Also despite that, and skipping all fights save for the bosses, it STILL felt long and grueling.

There are attempts at more powerful damage but they all fall flat. Most buffs are single target, which I don't bother with because I could spend that turn attacking rather than applying a buff that most often a)makes little difference or b)wears off too quickly.

There are a couple attacks that deal effective damage against certain enemies but a)the difference is negligible b)one of those is against a type of enemies you barely ever fight against. There's also a "powerful" attack you can only do when your hp is below half ! It's less powerful than the single target spell you get at the very beginning of the game. All in all, it makes every thing long, grindy, and not very exciting.

Reason 2 : The utter lack of variety. Almost every single boss fight is exactly the same. Couple of phases, the boss attacks you and summons minions. SOMETIMES they also have status effects/debuffs. And that's it.The first couple bosses have this trick where their minions explose on death and deal bigger damage. But that quickly disappears. I can't really speak for the other battles because I skipped them but for what little I played it also felt very same-y. As for your characters, you have characters focusing on raw damage and other focusing on utility (healing, buffs, etc).

I basically benched every utility character because the general damage output is already low enough and the utility isn't really useful. Healing is fine, buffs would be fine if it didn't buff enemies caught in the range as well (I usually use them once at the start of the battle and then stop bothering). You can set traps if you want, and then tear your hair out as you watch the enemy repeatedly side-step them (though there are two character who can set traps, maybe you couyld make a strategy out of that). Most likely the trap will expire or you will kill the enemy before they step on it. You can steal items, but you find so many everywhere in game that if you don't use those skills you won't miss them. You can poison your enemies, for an amazing ONE DAMAGE A TURN. Or delay their turn, if you feel like eating two attacks in a row later. Nothing really feels worth it you know ?

It results in this long, drawn-out same-y battles where you just use the same couple of spells against the enemy, over and over until they die. Which, in terms of bosses, can take a very long time. My reaction to new phases was generally "are you kidding meeee ANOTHER one ?" which is not a good sign.

Reason 3 : The lack of juiciness and quality of life. Example : you can freely see enemy hp ! if you specifically go to the menu and hover over the enemy. Otherwise, it's hidden. Why ? Either make their hp easily and quickly visible, or keep it hidden ! When you factor in the fact that every attack has its own, sometimes awkward range, that you cannot walk on occupied tiles (apparently your allies will not deign step aside to let you through), the short walking range of the characters, AND the facts that many enemies love to pepper the battlefield with traps (high damage+lost turn), actually getting in a good position to hit the enemies can be rather tedious. Hitting the enemies doesn't feel satisfying. There aren't little things like shaking their sprites, shaking the screen, cool fx, satisfying sound effects, etc. Just the damage and a little "oops/nice/great". It's a little things, but it makes battles feel even more flat.

TL;DR : the fights are repetitive and unsatisfying, and none of the alternatives to "deal damage to enemy" feel interesting enough to explore.

STORY :  The story is... eh ? Well let's just say there are good things, bad things, and utterly confusing things.

Good : The characters are pretty endearing, for the most part. I'm not gonna be thinking about them for long after finishing the game, but they're nice, there were lots of funny quips and cute moments. That's mostly what kept me around despite the bad gameplay (and other issues I'll get to), I wanted to know what would happen to these people ! Also I loved that there are so many nonbinary characters !! With different presentations and pronouns !! AND who are all humans :D That made me really happy.

Bad : The pacing is bad. My god it's bad. Most of the first half of the game boils down to : we have to do x, but for that we have to go to y, but we can't so we have to ask w in z, and just when you think you can, finally, do x, another obstacle pops up and you have to go on the other side of the map to do something else. It really feels like you're making little to no progress, and it ended up being quite frustrating at times. The second half of the game is better, but sometimes, after an emotiolly intense moment, you would snap right back to "oh we have to go to q but there's a giant rock in the way !". Jarring. Also some scenes left me asking "wait that's it ? You're not gonna discuss things further ?" or "Why aren't the characters reacting to this ?". The story in itself was ok, but the pacing... yikes.

Also, this is more a personal gripe that anything, but... (spoilers warning) I really didn't like how the game handled trauma and ptsd. It fell into the ol' trope of "ptsd/delusions makes people dangerous and violent", and that's not really something I expected from a game that tries to be progressive about this stuff (The inclusion of content warnings is a very good thing !! more games should do that). And I'm not talking like "lashing out at people", no, we're talking kidnapping, assault, murder, potentially triggering the apocalypse. And like, the game deliberately puts these characters through some of the worst things that could happen to them, which made them very violent and dangerous as a result... I don't know, it feels pretty thoughtless and cruel. Not to mention that they then go down the "oh but it's not your fault it's the traumaaaaaa" which, ew, no. No, mental illness, ptsd, trauma etc don't make people inherently violent and dangerous. But when you harm people, it's serious, and you should make amends, regardless of what mental ilness(es) you may or may not have. I dunno, maybe it's just me but that whole thing left a sour taste in my mouth.

Confusing  : There's a character who is handled very weirdly ??? Like, at the beginning of the game they're pretty present, they get an arc, join you and then... barely do anything ???? They almost never interact with the others, or react to what's going on ? There are scene where they went to the trouble to show their sprite (characters who don't contribute to the conversations usually don't appear), but they don't say or do anything ??? At most they make a quip about fighting and stuff but that's it ??? There was a scene when the group argues and a few characters go off on their own, and other follow them and comfort them. I thought, well, since they have a huge crush on the protagonist, they're gonna go and talk to her, right ? They're the only one who hasn't left yet. But nope ! They don't even react ! And yet they're one of the few characters who gets a song ???? I feels like they were added as an afterthought what It's a shame, they're pretty fun.

TL;DR The characters are endearing but one is handled weirdly, the pacing is bad and some plot points felt unsavory.

And finally, some random stuff. In general, the world feel very bare and empty. I'm not just talking about the very low number of npc, there's a plot reason for that, but there is almost no flavor text ?? At first I tried to check out everything, to learn more about this setting and the people in it, but the only things you can interact with are plot important. Makes the whole world rather flat, and that's a shame ! I would've liked to learn more !

One good thing though, is the inclusion of accessibility features like different options for the timing gameplay, displaying content warnings and stuff (though I've seen someone say the game wasn't friendly to photosensitive people , there is an option to reduce flashing lights but I dunno how good it is). That's very nice, and I hope more games will include those features !

So here's my giant wall of text on Ikenfell. I'm sad I didn't end up liking it more, but the game has quite a few issues (ESPECIALLy gameplay-wise). I hope the developers will take that as an opportunity to leanr, because I'm sure they can make good games ! There's some good stuff in there, some good ideas that would've just needed to be imlplemented better !

[starksinthenorth]

@circe1fanatic I’m responding here because this is much easier than annoying OP with remarks that are somewhat off the topic of Arya and trying to keep my response w/i the bounds of tumblr’s comment word limit

We’ve got a few different things where we’re not seeing eye-to-eye and I think it’s muddling what we’re both saying

Firstly: Harry and Sansa’s Marriage to begin with

The Vale is in Lannister-Baratheon's control in name only, through their appointee Littlefinger. The Vale Lords were rumbling to rebel to join Robb's war and declare against Joffrey - remember, the going theory is that the Lannisters killed Jon Arryn for ~reasons~. They all hate Littlefinger and many of them probably don’t recognize Tommen as legitimate King because he’s a bastard born of incest. They’d accept any excuse to go to war at this point - like supporting young, beautiful, present Sansa Stark’s claim to her home that will also mean vengeance for Lord Jon. And especially with the imminent collapse of the Lannsiter-Baratheon-Tyrell regime when Aegon shows up, why not now?

In Sansa’s second or third or fourth chapter, some news arrives from King’s Landing along the lines of “Good Tidings, our King’s murderer is dead! Long live  King Tommen! Also P.S. Cersei has no power.” The poor dead dwarf who Mace + co. think is Tyrion obviously isn’t, but no one in the Vale knows that when Tyrion is literally on the other side of the planetos. Littlefinger sees this as a time to strike - finish off Robin if he’s not dead already, marry off Alayne, reveal her identity. 

Secondly: Sweetrobin’s Murder

Littlefinger is very good at hiding things and manipulating situations in his interest. My expectation is that Sweetrobin’s death is brushed off as an accident or framed as a plot by Maester Colemon to kill Sweetrobin for ~reasons~ (see: the framing of Marrillion). My guess is that this actually is an accident, with Sansa commanding Sweetrobin to drink his milk, thinking the forgetful Maester forgot to give it to him, giving him a double dosage on accident, and then he dies in his sleep. The guilt will be immense when she realizes it, but put her in a nice, morally grey dilemma like TWOW will be full of for everyone.

But when Sansa reveals herself to marry Harry, the Valemen will probably default to their search for a fight. They most certainly will realize that through Sansa and Harry’s combined blood and claim, they have a chance to raise Harry as king of the Mountains, North, and maybe even the Trident (through Sansa’s Tully blood). Compared to the mess going on in the South - and this is just about when Aegon takes King’s Landing and Cersei flees to Casterly Rock - why not try and declare a new king? It’s all the rage these days. 

Thirdly: Does the Actual Legality of Sansa’s Marriage actually matter?

The answer is almost certainly no. At least not to the plot. We’re going to deal with a lot of information that may not actually shape the general trajectory of the plot but will certainly frame the characterizations. Example: I don’t think Jon’s parentage means anything to anyone except him. He questions who he is, what this means, and if he really is who he thought he is. Since we discussed the will earlier, I think it ties in here. Whether or not Jon is crowned KitN or LoW doesn’t matter. What matters is that he recognizes that the man who always considered him a brother was willing to make him one in truth. It doesn't matter that he’s biologically Rhaegar’s - he’s still Ned Stark’s son anyway.

And think of what this false marriage does to deconstruct Sansa’s identity: a maiden’s value is tied up to their purity and their marriage and the children they have. Now, she’s committed adultery and bigamy and is totally against the socially perfect role she previously inhabited. But this has no effect at this point cause we’re probably halfway into Dream, there’s a bajillion armies that need feeding and retreating Northern smallfolk that need support and shelter and as acting lady of the castle for your pick of Jon/Rickon/Bran, it’s her role in the War for the Dawn to figure out all those logistics. Somewhere along the way, she realizes her place as a worthy Stark of Winterfell isn’t determined by her husband or her lady-ness, but by her blood and her being “stronger in the walls of winterfell.” 

Fourth: Will Littlefinger get away with murdering Robert (and Lysa, and Jon, etc.)

Oh, definitely not. But the only person with all the knowledge to bring him to heel for his crimes, who through this information will further get support from the Lords of the Vale with their wains of food and well-rested knighs to her own cause? Sansa Stark.

Finally, does the lord of Winterfell matter?

Nope. My predictions:

Stannis claims the North by winning Winterfell, but Ramsey escapes, sends the Pink Letter, and generally causes chaos around the North

{some unknown things happen in the North, including news of Jon’s “death”}

Eventually, Sansa shows at Winterfell. She is the first Stark to arrive because she is metaphorically the furthest away from Winerfell at the start

As Stannis is figuring out what to do with her, Rickon shows up. Also maybe Bran and a living Jon. Maybe.

Whichever boy it is, Sansa cedes power / control, because the boy comes first, she’s just happy to have her family back, etc.

at some point between this and the next step is when Arya arrives home, if she ever does (I lean like 60% yes/no)

If they haven’t already, Bran or Jon shows up with warnings of the wall collapsing and the WW coming

any remaining squabbling about the lordship of WF ceases because ice zombies

[mysticandskepticmuses]

altered carbon au; a confrontation between june moone and her methuselah parents, daniel and maria moone, who are drawing the line in the sand when confronted with proof of her relationship with takeshi kovacs.  written for my au w/ @magicandsciencemuses.  it doesn’t really have a beginning or an end, sorry ? not sorry i guess, i needed to jump straight into the action and it didn’t feel right to try and build up to it after i was already there and it’s intentionally left ‘hanging’ at the end because it will be followed by another drabble and/or starter for the scene w/ june & takeshi afterwards.  there is a LOT of potentially triggering content.  emotional trauma, emotional manipulation / abuse, implied allusions to domestic abuse, name-calling, general angst so please do not read  if these things are triggers to you!

“Perhaps if you were thinking clearly instead of giving way to your baser instincts – if you were thinking at all instead of indulging in mindless rutting like some bitch in heat you would have even the smallest concept of the kind of man you have brought into your life – our lives!”  The words were practically spat at her, her father’s features red and angry; nostrils flared, lips pressed tight enough they seemed nonexistent, his large frame clenched and taut, his last words accentuated by a furious thud of balled fists slammed against the desk he now towered over with enough force to send scattered objects flying, a faint and slightly sickening crack of – the wood beneath his fists, his fists themselves – she didn’t know for sure which, and for perhaps the first time in her life, she found she didn’t have the wherewithal to wonder, to care.   She had never – never seen him like this, seen him so near to erupting with anger and violence –  she had never … ever imagined that he would say …  

Was this what it felt like, to be sucker punched?  To be gutted, to be – eviscerated?   She couldn’t breathe.   It felt like there was … a weight, a ton of weight that had slammed into her chest and stomach, that had flattened her, stolen breath and thought and words and any residual sense of composure or hope that she had, the world, snatched out from underneath her feet and she was left hanging, scrabbling in the vacuum of space, her voice, her breath ripped out of her lungs.  She could feel her body, shaking, her lashes spinning, jerking rapidly as she fought against the violent surge of tears that spilled, soundlessly for a long moment, over her lashes, scalding and stinging her cheeks as she tried to –  to breathe, to think, to feel anything other than the wrenching, twisting feeling in her gut.  Never.   Never in her life had he truly raised his voice to her, never, ever had he thought to say something so –  heartless.  Her jaw quivered, her lips pressing tight, swallowing down the choking sound that clenched, tight and agonizing in her chest.  “You –   “  Her voice was shaking, weak.   “You –   don’t –  know –  anything about the kind of man he is,” she raged, in stuttered gasps, fingers digging trenches through her palms, knotting against her stomach as she tried to find the breath necessary to keep from dissolving into the multi-colored dissolving dots that spun at the edges of her blurred, streaked vision.  “You know –”

“I know ENOUGH,” Daniel’s voice roared, white knuckled fists still digging into the faint hollows of the desk beneath him where they had impacted moments before.  “I know all I need to know.”  His voice was white-hot, wounded pride and centuries-old-ego crashing together into a dangerous compound that had needed only a spark to ignite.   One hand raised, a harsh gesture through the air that made her flinch, an array of images spinning to life in the air around them.   Images, snapshots, of marred flesh, of her bruised throat and wrists, the pages of the medical reports from her sleeve repair spinning by one after the other; moving images, flickers of tangled limbs, of gasped and throaty sounds, a dozen intimacies caught in ten- fifteen- second loops – the night of the Bancroft ball, snippets from the beach-house security cameras, and others, a shaky, hand-held or perhaps aerial remote camera that honed in on the slightly grainy, but still clearly discernible features of June and Takeshi entangled against an alley wall, and another of similar quality that showed skin, bared, coarse sounds of their rough coupling tinny from the distance of the camera outside of his hotel room but – clear enough.  

Humiliation flooded her, acidic as it cascaded over nerves so recently left raw and open; anger and resentment, indignation burning hot in his gaze as he shoved the images away, the sounds seeming to linger for a few seconds more.   “You – had me – followed?”  Takeshi’s words from the ruins echoed in her thoughts – she’d been so quick to dismiss the possibility –  “Oh, no,” Daniel scoffed, cutting off that line of questioning in an instant. “That is not up for discussion, and as luck would have it, those lovely snippets of your behaviour were brought to your mother and I by two separate individuals who – fortunately for you – had the decency to ‘offer’ to sell the footage to me, rather than to the spin rags,” he seethed, and it seemed something in those words registered, a creeping, gnawing understanding worming its way through her chest.   “Do you have any idea the potential scandal that this could have dragged you – this family through?  My only daughter, fucking the last Envoy, a known murderer – an assassin, a mercenary, a terrorist in the streets like a common whore –”  

It didn’t seem to wound, quite so deeply as his first insults – she’d stopped feeling anything other than shock minutes before.    “Do you care, even a little, about all that we have done for you, all that this family stands for –?”  A harsh sound, a brittle, contorted scoff rushed from her at his words, silvery-limned jade eyes gleaming brightly, almost inhumanly in her nearly ghost-pale features as her gaze cut up sharply to him, to her, the nearly silent, immobile form of the draconian woman who stood behind Daniel, one elbow resting lightly, casually on the back of his chair, watching the events unfold with an impassable mask of calm.  “Oh, you can’t actually –”  June began, disbelief and a bitter edge of disdain sharpening her words before another gesture, another thud of Daniel’s hand, palm flat this time, slammed down onto the desk.   To her credit, June didn’t flinch that time.   “You leave your mother out of this,” he spoke, his words frigid, the warning clear in his posture and expression.   “You have done this, you have endangered everything, with your reckless, sycophantic, childish behaviour and it ends now.   Laurens Bancroft did not summon this creature from the depths of cold storage to be your plaything, and I will not have you sullying our name, gallivanting around town with this monster who has – do you know how many organic deaths, how many real deaths this Kovacs has left callously in his wake?”  

“Perhaps you’d care to see that footage as well,” the offer came, silky smooth, a soft and deadly offer made from the viper behind the desk, a tilt of her head as she mimicked concern, sympathy.  “I don’t think you realize just how lucky you are to have limped away with as little harm as you’ve endured –”  Maria began, before June’s taut, short words cut her off.  

“You. Know.  Nothing about him.  He would never hurt me,” June spoke, outrage and utter faith echoing simply in her words, mirrored in the edges of disgust that twisted her mockingly youthful features at even the thought.  

Maria’s expression showed a flicker of intrigue before her brows tucked together, concern seeming to warm her gaze and soften her features, a small step taken forward as she placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulders, exchanging a glance with him before she turned her focus back to June to speak again.   “Oh, darling,” she spoke softly, regret tinting her words.  “Oh - you think … you thought he cared for you,” she empathized, a frown tugging gently at the edges of her lips as she watched June’s reactions, watched the edges of indignation crumble just so.  “I’m sorry, darling,” Maria continued.  “It’s – truly a tale as old as time, I’m – sorry if … you thought you were the only one.”  Another half exchange of glances, before she leaned in over Daniel’s stance slightly to pull open one of the folders that had half scattered at his attacks on the desk, opening the file and with a simple gesture, fanned out a series of still photos, all featuring various quality images that showed the Envoy’s current sleeve in various stages of coitus in his hotel room with at least two different women, one June didn’t recognize – young, delicate looking, pretty in a … haunting way – the other easily recognizable to her – Miriam – with date and time stamps that marked the interactions scattered throughout the last few weeks.  

That, June felt.  The twist of the dagger in her chest, snaking deeper, bleeding freely.  “And?”  She tried to believe she didn’t care, that it didn’t matter – they had never set boundaries, rules, had never spoken of –   She could feel him, the way his rough fingertips swept over her cheek, the way his fingers eased through her hair, his thumb brushing over her ear, scarred knuckles teasing along her throat –  the warmth of his breath flickering, teasing over her skin in the warmth of the sun, the sinking sensation of bare toes into wet, squelching sand as his lips brushed over hers, soft and filled with –  longing.   She hated them – hated the tears that welled over lashes and streaked over her cheeks, brushed away angrily with the palms and back of her hands as she forced her gaze back to them, white lipped and white knuckled.   “I have –  done – everything you ever asked of me,” June spoke, her words thin, her voice tight, warbling with the overload of emotions.   “Everything.   I have been – Never, in all my life, have I done anything that might cast a modicum of scandal or negativity on this family–”

“Until now,” Daniel cut in, shortly, crisply, his voice pitched lower but no less seething, the vein in his forehead still pulsing rapidly though – he seemed to have expended the worst of his outrage.   “It will not happen again.  There are no ifs, ands, or buts - this is not up for debate, you will do as you are told or you will face the consequences.  You think you know what this world is, child, but believe you me, it is a far different beast without the protection and comforts that you have been afforded.   Tell him, in person, if you must – but this ends.  Now.  If – if – you think you can defy me, consider carefully what you think you have.  What you think you own, because – I promise you, it is far less than you believe.”

[leovand]

ARIZONA U is proud to introduce you to LEONARDO “LEO” VAN DOREN , the twenty-five year old, undergraduate fine arts major in his SENIOR year. most of their peers deem them as someone who is +eccentric , +intelligent & +self-sufficient but i know that some of their professors think they’re more -self-righteous, -precipitous & -self-destructive, maybe that’s why the police are still interviewing them on the reopened cold case. maybe it was because they were also A BAD INFLUENCE for NATALIA LINDERMAN. i mean that is just a little suspicious, but i only really think of scuffed black combat boots, a car that always smells like weed, and meaningless tattoos when i hear their name, not murder. but i could be wrong. — MAXENCE DANET-FAUVEL.

boo bitch i’m gin, bout to head out to work but tbh i’ll be around to chat n plot bc whew it’s boring there !!!! anyway down below you’ll find a terrible bio + some wcs so come hmu and we’ll plot some angst or give this a like and i’ll slide in ur dms woo ah

also a tl;dr is right before the wcs and above that is a brief description of his connection to natalia

trigger warnings for drug use/abuse, addiction, and infidelity

background info

leo was born in london to two very wealthy parents, richard and cynthia van doren. richard was something of an inattentive father (particularly when it came to leo) and from early on beginning to distance himself from the family, and while cynthia certainly loved leo, she’d always wanted a daughter, which she got two years later when his little sister victoria ( @toriivd​ ) was born. thus, it was from an extremely young age that leo began to feel like something of a black sheep in the family. richard was, unbeknownst to any of them, already having an affair with a woman in america whom he’d met on several business trips to arizona. all they knew was that he hardly seemed invested in their family anymore, let alone to take an interest in their lives. of course, victoria was a daddy’s girl, and though she often pretended not to see this happening leo knew perfectly well she was lying deliberately to herself. it was something he only pulled out when they fought bitterly, and they both knew it was a low blow when he did. 

this was especially apparent in high school, when leo’s acting out turned to drug use, skipping school, and even trouble with the police a few times. richard was almost never there either to lend fatherly support or to discipline--the only time he was, leo got the tongue-lashing of his life as well as a slap in the face, and if he had to pick a specific event which led him to the realization that he hated his father, it would be that one. 

even as things were looking rockier and rockier with their parents, leo was 12 when his mom got pregnant again. 13 when she had their baby brother, bradley. it was frankly a mess and for the first couple years leo was not at all good about helping. he resented the further attention drawn away from himself and hated his dad more than ever for his seemingly endless supply of bullshit

when he was 15, tori 13, and bradley 2, their parents finally got divorced. he and tori listened in on the final, blow-out fight from the stairs and learned that the reason their father had been taking so many business trips to the states all these years was in fact another woman, and even better, the two kids he had with her. tori had processed this in her own way, and leo had tried to be there for her, but his own self-destructive method of processing it made it difficult to do so. in other ways, however, the whole thing changed the nature of his relationship with his mother, which had always been a little distant. the fact of his father’s betrayal had the effect of inspiring within leo a fierce love and protectiveness over her, and in the rubble of their family the four of them found something much more intimate than they’d had before. 

he graduated high school in spite of all this but spent the following two years doing nothing productive; it was sex drugs rock n roll and rebellion, and through it all giving a huge metaphorical middle finger to his dad, who’d officially moved to arizona to pledge his allegiance to his chosen family. leo and tori eventually came to the morally questionable agreement to tell people that their father had died in a car accident rather than explain the truth, and for leo, it was as much an act of spitting on his father’s memory as it was a tactic to avoid talking about it. 

it was when tori finally graduated high school that they formulated the plan to go to university in arizona, and while they were there to try and find their father. not because leo missed him, of course--it was closure he was after, and only seeing him and his other family would allow him to find it.

a year ago now, leo went back home to england for a month and a half to check himself into rehab, but the only person he told was his mom. it was for an opioid addiction that had gotten out of hand and he did indeed manage to get clean. he’s even managed to stay clean when it comes to the opioids, but he’s started doing coke now and then and dabbling in pills. mostly though it’s just a lot a lot of weed all the time. 

he’s in his senior year of his bfa and has almost no prospects, although that’s mostly due to his screwing them all up by being high and careless about it. a part of him despises the whole idea of school and the work force and having a career and is lowkey self destructing bc he can’t handle the idea of growing up and having to act like an adult

personality

so for the most part, leo is super super chill, doesn’t take anything very seriously, is cracking jokes 24/7 (his sense of humor is so so so dry), almost always high, and if no one stops him will start rambling on about literally anything in his pretentious know it all way that he genuinely doesn’t realize is so wildly pretentious

he’s a fine arts major with a focus in illustration but he also does a lot of sculpting. so he doodles a lot, probably on things he shouldn’t doodle on, and he makes money on the sculptures here and there (which he’s telling himself he can sustain for his entire life lmao)

pansexual, tends to sleep around but genuinely likes being in a relationship. he falls in love rly easily and has little crushes on random people all the time and is prone to infatuations with people who don’t feel the same way. most relationships he’s had have failed bc of his drug problem interfering and/or becoming too much for his partner at the time to deal with

for everything he’s been thru, leo actually has quite an optimistic view of the world and people in general and he just really likes human interaction and being around people. he can come off as wildly eccentric and difficult to keep up with and sometimes makes it seem like he thinks he’s better than everyone and doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks but on the highest of keys he cares so much what everyone thinks and will probably admit that out loud tbh ftyegudhsujka

cares about his mom, sister, and little brother more than anything in the world and feels guilty as HELL about not being there while his brother is growing up

will lose his mind if u call him leonardo

connection to natalia linderman //  natalia was the good girl, and that was certainly part of leo’s motivation to corrupt her—there was something thrilling about being able to effect such change in someone held in such high esteem on campus—but that wasn’t all of it. some part of him had developed feelings, too, and it killed him that she never saw him that way. the drugs and the class-skipping to smoke weed made him feel close to her, even when she was talking about other people. he eventually began to feel guilty for what he saw as poisoning her with his way of life, and he’d been working up the nerve to tell her this until she went missing. he now lives with the fear that whatever she got mixed up in that resulted in her death could be blamed on the drugs, and more specifically, him.

tl;dr // comes from a wealthy british family whose father left when he was 15 in favor of his second family in america; weed smoker, class skipper, pretentious art boy acts like he doesn’t give a fuck but actually gives the most fucks and readily admits it; surprisingly soft but will Fight for his mom and sister; spent two months that nobody knows about in rehab last year for an opioid addiction

wanted connections/plot ideas

this will have to be discussed with me n maia but !! a boy who tori was dating six months ago (for however long before that) who seduced leo and then told him he wanted to be w him instead, and then broke up with tori when leo said no and told her he cheated on her but not with whom fytsugeuhkdij so hmu if u wanna fill that and i’ll give u more deets 👀

the two kids!!! from their dad’s second family!!!! PLEASE!!!

randomly someone he was in rehab with showing up in arizona somehow???? more likely than u think !!

a few exes from arizona + any exes from back home in london would be cute

someone with a s/o whom leo is practically in love with who does not feel the same way back p l e a s e ideally they’d be rly close friends too

stoner buds thanks

gimme some of tori’s exes/suitors for leo to fight OR even softer.....to rly like and root for

a bad influence who encourages his drug use :/

good influences!!!

whew also someone who kind of.....had an idea of what he was doing with natalia and was Big Sus about it and maybe still is !!!?????!

[lanx-reads]

Heaven Review

Final Rating: */***** or 1/10

The angel Bethany and her mortal love, Xavier, have already pushed the boundaries of Heaven with their relationship. In this conclusion to the Halo trilogy, the two take their love to the next, forbidden, step: They marry.

At a time when they believe nothing will come between them again, they are faced with their most daunting challenge yet: the Sevens, a military order of angels designed to maintain balance in the universe. These soldiers won't stop until their job is done - capture the wayward angel and send her home.

Secrets, exile, and unexpected allies flavor the rest of this intense love story and adventure.

Beth discovers there is only one way back to earth, but the cost is higher than she - and readers - ever imagined. If she can survive, she can prove to Heaven and Earth that there is nothing stronger than the power of love.

Heaven by Alexandra Adornetto is the Spider-Man 3 of all books and that is probably the highest praise I can give it considering I did enjoy Spider-Man 3. 

I can’t believe I finally finished this fucking trilogy and HOLY SHIT this book was. A ride. A wild wild ride. I cannot put into words how utterly stupid, bad, and unintentionally hilarious and entertaining this book is. Drama after drama unfolds, none of it really sticks or is really connected to... anything. There’s actually quite a bit of action, but since the main characters are so hateable and nothing connects to anything it feels almost like some sort of terrible action movie. But I understand... books are hard to write and how do you write a good conclusion for a terrible series? 

Well, you don’t.  

Now, is this book more hilarious and entertaining than Hades? In some ways... yes. Yes it is. However, unlike Hades, which was just hilarious throughout for the most part, this book does have some incredibly boring and just painfully stupid parts that remind me of the entirety of the first book. 

Heaven goes out of its way to cram even more religion down your throat. It tries to be even more offensive than the previous books combined. The author tries so so so hard to make these bland characters get on soapboxes as much as she can so they can spew utter nonsense about everything in general. This book is homophobic:

“Marriage is an indissoluble covenant between man and woman” -Gabriel 

(Yes the above is a direct quote)

It’s also transphobic: 

“Billie?” “No way, she’ll be gender confused.” 

(They’re discussing baby names. So I guess if you’re a (cis) girl and named... Billie or Riley you’re gender confused according to this author. As if that’s how it works at all) 

Aaaaand like the last book, the only PoC character is a black angel who’s the main villain. He’s also the only actual attractive character in this mess as well. I guess it’s good she... finally gave her meager PoC character an actual ethnicity? Hemiel is described as being black while Asia, from the last book, is just dark-skinned and ambiguously PoC. Of course, this is a double-whammy here... only Hemiel’s race is described throughout the entire book. And he’s the leader of the group of antagonists. Of course.  Instead of just writing in PoC as people or just not touching the matter and allowing people to imagine the characters however they wished, all the PoC characters in this series (which amounts to two...) are honed in on and specified having a darker skin tone.

I also feel as if this book is offensive to like... every normal Christian out there? Like the Christianity in this book is Evangelical and just. Makes it sound like the whole religion is full of lunatics.

Like I can’t find any way this book isn’t offensive. It’s offensive to Christians and people of other faith. It’s offensive to LGBT+ people. It’s offensive toward PoC. It’s offensive toward domestic abuse survivors. It’s offensive to neurodivergent people. It’s offensive toward Southerners who think people down here are... like that. It’s offensive to both women and men as well. Like, this book holds no punches in it’s freezing cold takes and wrongness. 

However, despite all of the above, I could not be bothered to be offended at all during this book. Now, I am an utter goblin and fall under many of the categories above, and I can understand why someone may get offended by this book. But I myself did not get offended. For one, it’s obvious the author is trying to be as “edgy” as she can be with the above. Why else would she go out of her way to preach every few pages, after all? 

And it really does feel like she, the author, is preaching her beliefs to us during these moments. The shallow “story” grinds to a halt almost every time the characters get on their soapbox for anywhere between a few paragraphs to a few pages. 

Rather than give an actual review about the entire book... I’m just gonna. Explain the plot. Because honestly everything I said about the last two books carried over. Actually, arguably, even though this book had more action than Hades, it is a technically worse book. I found several spelling and grammar mistakes, the pacing was atrocious... although better than the first book, none of the events were connected in any way and had no significance on one another. They didn’t really build up to any conclusion, relevant character development, or form any sort of detailed plot. 

However, that being said, this book does have a plot. A thin one that makes little sense and goes everywhere and one where the subplots aren’t even tied up at the end, but one nonetheless. 

Spoilers abound if anyone actually cares!!

In Heaven, Beth and Xavier decide to get marry. Even tho Beth recognizes signs around town that means hey this might not be a good idea she ignores these signs since she’s an incredibly selfish dunce. The priest who marries them is murdered for committing the sin of marrying an angel and a human together (?) and now Beth and Xavier are on the run from a group of angels known as “The Seven” who act as police. Due to God being Too Busy with Godly Things, The Seven go completely out of wack and become utterly obsessed with returning order... which means breaking their marriage I guess. 

Of course, the above sounds stupid and makes little sense. There is no real reason on WHY angels and humans can’t marry. Like the previous books, there wasn’t any real reason why they couldn’t date either. It’s unexplained. Furthermore, that murdered priest? Yeah, Beth says it’s not her or Xavier’s fault since “they didn’t know they would be punished” yet... time and time again they were told that even dating was forbidden and barely tolerated AND on top of that she was warned with numerous signs that marrying may be a bad idea... so no she’s an idiot and it IS her fault. And honestly? Reading about an angel coming to terms with being the cause of death for someone innocent would have been interesting... but that would require Beth taking responsibility for her actions and stop being a selfish and whiny bitch... which is impossible. 

After that her and Xavier go on “the run” which isn’t even on the run. They hang out in a cabin for a couple of chapters and whine about how they can’t fuck and how bored they are even tho, you know, it’s their own faults for getting into this mess at all. So much weight is put on marriage and I just... don’t get it. I am someone who doesn’t really want to marry anyone and if I did, it would only be for the benefits. I really don’t care about marriage at all, personally, so I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal here. I get it’s part of the religion... but still. Now, if the concept of marriage was explored in any significant way, that would’ve been interesting to read. But it’s not, so let’s move on. 

After being caught by the Seven after doing Stupid Shit, they go to college because...? Sevens rely on their smell and with so many humans around it will mask it? Yeah, lame and contrived excuse to force the characters to go to college. 

The college section of this book is one of the most boring and pointless. It consists of Beth hating on other girls, girls only talking about sororities and boys, and feels like a scene taken from a cheesy movie. It’s completely and utterly unrealistic and cringy; completely painful to read. Here, Beth and Xavier pretend to be siblings... which is disgusting considering this is where they decide to fuck in the woods (which is written SO BADLY I can’t even. Like... for real bitch starts waxing poetic about how she feels she’s in an underwater magical world while getting dirt and grass up her ass I don’t get it) anyways they pretend to be siblings while alone they are husband and wife and it’s so... gross... like you KNOW it’s not incest since they aren’t ACTUALLY related but STILL it makes me feel dirty to read. (And also makes me question if the author has an incest kink bc I mean really....)

Anyways, ofc they’re eventually caught by Beth’s roommate? Who fell in love w Xavier bc the need for drama demanded it and ofc she is disgusted. To hide themselves, Beth grows s k i n over her mouth and then f o r c e f u l l y wipes her memories... and again, claims she is still moral and good doing so since her “hand was forced” 

Now, is this an interesting moral dilemma that could be explored? Of course it is! And because it is, it’s not explored at all, the book assumes Beth is in the right and the reader agrees, and moves on like nothing bad happened. No lasting consequences happen due to this. 

Speaking of... Beth’s character is so radically changed she feels OOC. It’s like the author wanted to have character development but not do any of the actual work at all. She acts like the baddest bitch around and complains that she’s world weary from “all the trauma she’s been through” but it comes out of nowhere? Like she’s still whiny and selfish and annoying. She still acts like a little girl and that the whole world owes her. She ain’t a badass and I dunno why the book is trying to convince us she is. 

Anyways, after THAT fiasco MORE drama hits the fan as the Sevens find them due to them Being Stupid and also Fucking In The Woods and stage what is basically a poor and tasteless terrorist attack in the lecture hall. Now, I do wanna note Heaven is a book that is several years old now... and the author is Australian, but that’s no excuse for the piss-poor mismanagement of a terrorist attack shown in a college campus. 

Now, that being said, this terrorist attack is by the Sevens, who manipulated memories to make it seem like this is what it was... I think... it is very unclear. Someone even dies during this... actually two people... heh

Either way, Hemiel is introduced, he’s shown to be a Horrible Angel with No Empathy and the students ofc freak out and hide under their desks while the room is trashed as they try and root out Xavier and Beth. Hemiel is trying to separate them by either dragging Beth back to Heaven or killing Xavier... and they do manage to succeed this time around!

YES, XAVIER DIES

Well, kinda. I was SO SHOOK when this happened I got EXCITED like could you imagine if Xavier died and the rest of the book is Beth hunting his soul down in Heaven while also looking at her own relationships and exploring the concept of death for a universe that has shown us death is not the end? Yeah, that doesn’t happen ofc but it would’ve been cool. 

Anyways, Xavier sadly doesn’t stay dead. Beth’s sister, Ivy, brings him back even THO SHE SAYS SHE CAN’T she does so anyways because ??? plot armor. But it was fun reading about him being dead. That being said, more problematic stuff pops out here, ofc. Beth threatens to kill herself if she can’t be with Xavier which is just.. not even gonna touch that with a 10-foot pole, honestly. Because yikes. 

Anyways, after pages of the author deciding to take the pussy way out, Xavier comes back except he’s not alone in his body.... because you see...

dun dun DUN Lucifer is back! And he has possessed Xavier! To get... revenge on them killing Jake Thorn, his son! 

I think this is the part of the book where the author realized SOMETHING from the last book needed to carry over to make this an actual trilogy? So on top of having Sevens and Not-In-The-Know College campus girls as the antagonists, we also need to throw Lucifer onto the mix. And he isn’t even the LAST antagonist to be introduced to this book!

This is why I call it the Spider-Man 3 of books, people. There are at least 4-5 different villains in this book and it is ridiculous. This is also why none of the events feel connected. There’s too many antagonists and honestly? You could cut out this entire portion with Lucifer out and nothing would change. It’s just a page-waster. 

That being said, this entire section was the most hilarious and fun to me. I enjoyed Lucifer a LOT in the last book and here he doesn’t disappoint! He calls Beth a whiny bitch to her face which is honestly... a wholeass mood so yeah. 

Beth, Gabriel, and Ivy tie down Lucifer to a bed in a basement of a house they so happen to own which is kinky I guess and a standoff kinda happens? Lucifer is too strong of a demon for the angels to exorcise since they’ve been weakened fighting Sevens or something and Lucifer wants to stay in Xavier’s body to take revenge on him and the angels. 

Which... okay. See, this starts turning stupid as then Gabriel and Lucifer start waxing poetic and debating about... the morality of Lucifer’s fall from Grace? I just... more bible shit... whyyy and it could have been interesting if we cared about Gabriel or if Lucifer was a real character rather than just “big bad” but blehh. Jake Thorn makes a return as a wraith briefly to develop a deal between Beth and Lucifer to get Lucifer out of Xavier’s body or something and it’s honestly so pointless. This entire scene is pointless. There’s so many plotholes it’s painful. 

And thing is, if the author kept the big bad of the series to just Lucifer, this right here is a great starter to a different book. But for some reason, she changes villains every book. Fuck, she changes the villains in this book every few goddamn chapters! This is why nothing feels concrete in this book and why nothing sticks, nothing feels important, and events have no weight. This book feels serialized. Like a monster-of-the-week sort of story that encapsulates multiple episodes of some tepid and poor Supernatural ripoff. And I never even watched Supernatural. 

After this event, everything goes downhill fast. Mainly ‘cause this is the last time we see Lucifer. He just kinda leaves after this section, doesn’t come back, and is barely thought of. The only reason why this entire section of this book is here is because Lucifer agrees to leave Xavier’s body if Gabriel’s wings are cut off? Thing is, his wings aren’t even cut off, they’re just badly damaged. But if you needed Gabriel’s wings to be destroyed for Plot Reasons... just have the Seven’s damage them? Like why drag an entire random ass character and this entire random ass scene into it?

See? Nothing makes any gd sense! The author just wanted to write this scene ‘cause she wanted to... not because it would make sense to put in. And Xavier barely has any trauma from the fact he was possessed by the greatest evil of the world. He watches a game of football, has sex with his wife, and is pretty much completely fine after that. Yikes. That’s not how... people work? At all?

Anyways, Gabriel getting his wings damaged means he’s now Emotional TM since idk pee is stored in the wings? Actually, an angel’s version of a soul and he then confesses his love for Molly, Beth’s friend from hs who is now in an abusive relationship w the head of a growing cult. I WISH I WAS JOKING

Like. What was the author SMOKING when she came UP with this stuff. Anywyas, all that happens is more waxing poetic about love and Gabriel acting OOC and then soapboxing about Christianity and cults or something. Then Later they all rescue Molly from her initiation into the cult by her fiance and since she’s separated from him, she can have no trauma now because she was rescued!! Ain’t that just GREAT!! And now she can be with Gabriel!! Silly Molly, for even FALLING for a cultist anyways!! Yeah, this point of the book just.... whyyyy what is the pooooint whyyy does the author need to put in her two cents about DOMESTIC ABUSE!! NO ONE ASKED!! NO ONE. Maybe because people complained Beth and Xavier’s relationship was shitty and had abusive traits so she had to put in a more dramatic abusive relationship to show that there’s isn’t? But Molly being in an abusive relationship with a cultist doesn’t... magically mean Beth and Xavier’s unnatural obsession w one another is healthy. You don’t-can’t- compare abuse. Or at least you shouldn’t. It’s not a fucking pissing game. 

Anyways, after that fiasco, which again has no real trauma or emotional impact on... anyone? They go back to Venus Cove after being caught AGAIN by Sevens at the college campus. Xavier is revealed that he’s... part Angel? Because Ivy blessed his mother to give birth to him and he was destined to cross paths with Beth or some shit? It’s all convoluted and stupid, honestly. There is no point to this besides giving Xavier a magical way to combat the Sevens in a scene because silly Beth is a womyan and she can’t defend herself and her HUSBAND against ANGELS of course not!! She needs a man to help her!! Also... I guess for more drama? I don’t know I’m just perplexed at this point. 

They go back to Venus Cove because ?? Beth and Xavier are finally cornered and Beth is forced to go back to Heaven. She’s put with a therapist called Eve. More grossness about therapy and misinformation about mental institutions is inbound. Eve is the last of the villains introduced and it doesn’t even matter. Beth can’t stand Heaven without Xavier and goes to get help from Emily, Xavier’s dead gf who he lost his virginity to which is info We Didn’t Need or Care About. Her and Beth argue some, Beth is a bitch, but she’s like that to everyone in the book so whatever. She meets with a friend who was once a Seven who introduces her to some RANDOM ANGEL who HAPPENS to run an UNDERGROUND REBELLION against the Sevens that cuts wings off of angels who want to be human?

And this doesn’t go against God because ??? I have NO Idea because the author doesn’t want it to and God already knows about them and is ok w it and the political unrest in Heaven I guess? God the contradictions are piling up. THIS MAKES NO SENSE AND COULD BE A BOOK ON ITS OWN

Also why were we wasting time with Beth in the first book when there was ALL THIS happening on in the BACKGROUND apparently?? I don’t know nothing makes any sense. 

Anyways, her wings are cut off, she says goodbye to Heaven and falls, lands on the beach of Venus Cove. Her old friends walk by talking about exposition in the 2 years she’s been gone but doesn’t see her somehow? I guess this exposition is supposed to tie in subplots but it doesn’t and also doesn’t matter. 

Beth goes back to Xavier, they have a reunion, and are alone now in the house since Ivy and Gabriel aren’t even there they went off somewhere to do Things I guess and it doesn’t matter. She’s human now and has a belly button and everything so now they can grow old and die together the end.

If it isn’t clear by now.... this book has a problem with basically everything. From a technical standpoint it’s an utter nightmare. In some ways, even worse than Halo since this book also has a tone and mood problem. The story jumps ALL OVER THE PLACE and does a poor job at mixing the supernatural parts and the human parts together. Revelations are made that have no bearing on anyone or anything. Drama happens and so do traumatic events but no one is really impacted by... anything? Beth is always in the right even if she does terrible things, poor her and Xavier, their life as rich white people is so hard since their love isn’t accepted or recognized by Heaven :( let me play the world’s smallest violin for them. 

Seriously. No self awareness or critique. At all. 

I don’t know what else to say about this book. I think it should be evident in everything ELSE I’ve said. Writing? Bad. Plot? What plot? Bad anyways. Characters? Godawful. Too many. No direction, no pace, nothing. This book feels like a churned out mess probably because it is. I don’t even wanna ASK how this got published because the answer is simple; money. 

Either way, I am BLESSED to be done with this series. As hilarious as Hades and Heaven are, I wanna go back to reading REAL books, thank you very much. 

Also, I am so sorry Spider-Man 3. I am so so sorry for comparing you to Heaven. That is a straight up insult and I take it back right now. Because I don’t think anything is comparable to Heaven. 

*/***** or 1/10

[masksandtruths]

The Sound of Silence-Part One

A/N: Wow, it has been a hot minute since I posted anything! I’ve been working on/holding onto this one for a while, and I think posting the first part is the motivation I need to finish the second part...so yes, there will be two parts. I came up with the idea when I was working late one night and The Sound of Silence (the version by Disturbed) popped up on my playlist. It just has this sad, but powerful feel to it and little snippets of a story started coming into focus. Then I got bogged down in the details and caught a bad case of writer’s block, life got busy, my husband and I found out we were having a kid, and yeah, this (and everything else) kind of got pushed to the back burner. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for sticking with me!

And thanks to @hannahindie and @trexrambling for reading the first bit, fixing some things, and being all around AWESOME!

Gifs are not mine. I found them on Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester (Dad!Dean) ; Sam Winchester (Uncle!Sam); Jack; Cas; Reader; Jesse Turner (mentioned eventually)

Word Count: 2600-ish

Warnings: angst, character death (mentioned), cursing, old Winchesters (apparently this is a necessary warning)

Summary: Once again the world is safe thanks to the heroics of the Winchesters, but this time, ensuring its safety came at a steep price. One that the reader, Dean’s daughter, is having a hard time accepting. 

He hadn’t wanted to bring a kid into this life—you knew that—but apparently, Chuck or God or whatever you were supposed to call him, had a sense of humor…because here you were. His child. Dean Winchester’s child…maybe not biologically, but he claimed you just the same. Blood never meant much to him or uncle Sam anyway; it wasn’t what made two individuals a family. Saving an infant after her parents were murdered, taking her in, raising her, training her, loving her—loving you—for twenty-eight years, that held you together stronger than a couple strands of DNA ever could.

You idly traced the letters that were carved into the bunker’s table so long ago with the tips of your fingers, a soft smile on your face and a broken heart thumping in your chest.

S.W.--Sam Winchester--Uncle Sammy--the tallest, gassiest, nerdiest, most perfect uncle in the whole world. The man that wrestled with Satan himself and won was also the man that had let you braid his hair and ask him all sorts of embarrassing questions when you were too scared to ask your dad.

D.W.--Dean Winchester--your dad--the bravest, funniest, stubbornest, softest hearted, best father ever to walk the face of this earth.  The man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders without complaint and went toe to toe with the biggest bads in existence was also the man that taught you how to ride a bike, doctored your scrapes with Disney princess band-aids, wiped away your tears when you had a bad dream, and showed you how to take care of a classic car and drive like a bat out of hell.

***

You recalled the story your dad told you about the night they had left those marks. One evening after a hunt, about a year before they rescued you, he had asked Uncle Sam what their legacy would be, and Sammy’s answer was that it would be all the people they saved. He had smiled softly and that was that. Such a simple answer, but it’s what their lives were all about from the moment that yellow eyed monster whisked them into the world of the supernatural, and that was good enough for them. Then, just like they did in the Impala, they decided to leave behind something for all of those people and future generations to remember them by--a couple of simple pairs of initials.

You could remember staring up at him in awe, clinging tightly to every word. “How many people have you and Sam saved, Daddy?” you had asked excitedly, eyes wide and eager. That was the first time your little, young mind really grasped that your dad and uncle were actual, bonafide heroes in lots of people’s eyes...not just yours. Dean and Sam Winchester had saved the world multiple times over, and you were the lucky kid that got to call them family. How cool was that?

“Too many to count, kiddo...but you’re the one I am most proud of. Finding you was the best thing I’ve ever done,” he said as he ruffled your hair and placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “Now, let’s get your little butt in bed.”

***

“Y/N?” a quiet voice broke the silence of the bunker and pulled you from the depths of that memory.

“Hey, Uncle Cas,” you answered without looking up.  You were surprised when you saw that a few drops of liquid had appeared on the table’s polished surface. Guess you had started crying at some point. Talk about a chick flick moment. Your dad would be so proud, you thought sarcastically.

“Y/N,” he repeated, and you felt movement to your left as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “As an angel, I perhaps still don’t understand the true depths of human emotion, but I have felt what I can only describe as heartbreak these last couple days. Your dad and Sam, they were my friends...my family...and I loved them.”

“I know you did, Cas. Jack too, and I’m glad you’re both here.” You felt him lay his hand across your shoulder gently.

“And I think this goes without saying, but we love you as well. I will always be here to respond to your prayers, just as I did for them.”

He lifted his hand from your shoulder and placed it across the top of your own, stopping you from tracing the “W” your dad had roughly carved into the table, and you sucked in a ragged breath. A few moments passed before you mustered the strength to turn your face and meet your winged uncle’s intense gaze. His concerned blue eyes studied you for a second before they flicked towards your hands and the four letters beneath them.

A lifetime of saving people and hunting things, and their memorial was a couple quick scratches in a table with an old pocket knife. It wasn’t enough. Nothing ever would be. Not in your book. The only bad thing about having such a wonderful family to call your own all those years was the gaping hole it created in your life when you lost them.

“Sam, even your dad, they would know better what words to use to ease your pain in this particular situation. I apologize for being less skilled in this area, but I do know they would not wish for your soul to be filled with such sadness.”

“My head knows that, but my heart’s another story, Cas. I just--I don’t--I just don’t know how to live without them. I miss them. I know sixty-eight is old for a hunter, but it doesn't mean I didn’t want them to stick around a few more years,” you choked out, your bottom lip trembling as you struggled to keep from falling apart completely. This freaking sucked. “I guess the one thing that gives me a little comfort is knowing they went out the way they wanted...fighting together and saving the world.”

“The family business,” he added softly, understanding exactly what you meant.

You nodded your head in agreement and wiped a hand down the length of your face, brushing the tears away from your eyes in the process, just like you’d seen your dad do so many times over the years. “The family business,” you echoed weakly.

“Are you ready?” Cas finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No, but that answer’ll never change, so we might as well get on with it,” you said with all the courage you could muster, standing and turning your back on those initials as you headed towards the garage.

“I will fly ahead and make sure everything is still in order. Jack is waiting at your car,” he informed you before he disappeared with a quiet “whoosh”.

The bunker was still once again. Your steps faltered as the silence following his departure started seeping back into your home. You closed your eyes and welcomed the darkness, your old friend, the one thing that gave you a slight reprieve from the reality you had been forced to endure the past two days. For in the darkness, you could imagine that all of this was just a bad dream. You could almost see your dad and Sam--two walking, talking, flannel covered teddy bears--bust through the metal door at the top of those stairs, making fun of each other and discussing a case. You could nearly feel their long arms as they wrapped around you and squeezed you in a tight hug. In the wells of that silence, you could practically hear the countless “love you, kiddo”s echo off the walls. And in those instants, you could breathe again. So you stayed there a second more.

***

“Hey, Jack,” you called as you stepped into the garage, announcing your presence to your best friend, who was leaned up against your black 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS--the old car your dad had helped you rebuild from the ground up. You’d always thought it was gorgeous, but you had to admit, she never looked better than when she was sitting right next to Baby. The two sleek muscle cars made quite the striking pair and had earned you and your dad hundreds of appreciative glances and kind comments over the years.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jack answered, shifting his weight off the car and heading towards you as you walked further into the room. As soon as he reached you, he turned and threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side, offering comfort without saying a word. Before you knew it, he was opening the driver’s side door to your Chevelle and waiting for you to climb inside...but you just...couldn’t.

“Would you like me to drive today?” he asked, sensing your hesitation. When you still didn’t move, he spoke again. “Y/N, I’ve gone through something like this before. Maybe not the exact same, obviously, but trust me when I tell you, this is something you have to do. Dad and I have done everything you asked, and I think that Uncle Sam and Uncle Dean would have been proud of how it turned out.”

You finally lifted your eyes to his, but you couldn’t make your mouth form any words, so he continued. “I think this will bring you some true peace, but first, you have to get in the car.”

“No,” you whispered, and Jack took a step back from you, clearly unsure about how to proceed. You sighed heavily, and then explained, “I’ll get in the car, but not this one. Today, we’re taking Baby.”

A small, sad smile turned up the corners of his mouth, but he just nodded and walked to the passenger door of the Impala, opening it and sliding in without question. You took a steadying breath and closed the door of your car before stepping around to the driver’s side of your dad’s. You placed your hand on the chrome handle and willed yourself to open his door. As soon as you did, you almost regretted it. A wall of scents completely unique to him and Sam slammed into your face and damn near knocked you off your feet.

Leather. Whiskey. Sweat. Soap. Blood. Grease. Sam’s shampoo. Your dad’s deodorant. All of them as familiar to you as the back of your hand. All of them bringing back memories of the two men you had lost. All of them threatening to break apart the last of your resolve. But you weren’t going to let that happen. You shook your head, clearing it of all the emotions brought on by that sudden sensory overload, and then smoothly slid into your place behind the steering wheel.

Jack looked over at you and nodded reassuringly. You dipped your head in return, letting him know you were alright. Without a word, you turned the key in the ignition, and when Baby’s engine roared to life, you caught a smile creeping onto your face. Somehow sitting in the seat of the Impala, listening to the low rumble of her engine with the smell of the two men you loved most in the world all around you...well, somehow it made them seem a little less far away.

You were just missing one other thing. You rummaged around in the car until you found the box you were searching for, and received a truly puzzled look from your friend when you plopped it down into your lap triumphantly.

“Uh...what are those?”

“These, my dear friend, are cassette tapes,” you answered with a grin, tilting the box towards him so he could see its contents better. “You listen to music on them.”

“Dean always just listened to the radio when I was around.”

“Yeah, Uncle Sam got pretty tired of hearing the same albums over and over after a while, so he didn’t play the tapes as much, but I knew they’d be in here somewhere,” you explained as you dug through the box, hunting for the one that said Def Leppard on it.

“Ah-hah!” you exclaimed excitedly, holding up the cassette proudly before shoving it into the car’s player. You rolled down the windows and cranked up the volume, laughing loudly when Jack jumped as the first notes of Rock of Ages blared out of the speakers. Your head was already bobbing to the rhythm as you shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the garage.

Jack was just getting into the song, tapping his thumb against his leg with the beat of the music, when you pushed the Impala’s pedal to the floor, causing her back tires to squeal as you fishtailed onto the road.  When you looked over again, he was gripping the door handle tightly, clearly deciding that holding on for dear life was a better use of his hand’s time. And for the second time in two days, you threw your head back and let your laughter fill the air.  

***

It was approximately 550 miles from the bunker to Greenville, Illinois. According to Google, that gave you about eight and a half hours--though you were pretty sure with your driving it’d only take you about seven--to think about things and wallow in self pity before you had to suck it up and endure one “sorry for your loss” after the other. You picked up your phone and glanced at the time. One hour down—just six more to go. By your calculations, you should make it there by about five o’clock.

“Hey, can I ask you something, Y/N?”

“Let ‘er rip,” you answered, nodding at Jack to continue. When he didn’t immediately launch into his question, you glanced sideways, smiling at the look of confusion on his face.

“Let what rip? I don’t…”

You cut him off with a chuckle, “It just means ‘go ahead’, Jack.”

“Oh I didn’t understand,” he responded with a grin.

“Yeah kinda picked up on that,” you joked good naturedly. “Nearly three decades with us and still so much to learn. But anyway, what’d you want to know?”

“I was just wondering how uncle Dean became the one you called ‘dad’. Sam rescued you too. He lived in the bunker. He helped raise you, so what was different?”

You thought for a second, your forehead crinkling as you tried to recall the old memory. “Well honestly, I don’t really know how to explain it. Dad...well...he just seemed to fit the role. Like in another life, under different circumstances, he probably would have loved to have a ton of kids, and I think I must have picked up on that,” you answered with a shrug. Jack just nodded, appearing to understand what you were trying to put into words, so you continued, “He always seemed to be the one that volunteered to tuck me into bed and read to me, and one night, as I was falling asleep, I remember mumbling ‘night, Daddy’ and that was that. He never corrected me and Uncle Sam never questioned it, so that’s just who they became to me.”

“It was the right choice. Dean...he was difficult to figure out sometimes, but there was nothing he enjoyed more than being your dad...not even hunting.”

You felt the familiar burn of tears in your eyes at your best friend’s statement and gripped Baby’s steering wheel a little tighter as you concentrated intently on the road in front of you and willed yourself not to fall to pieces. Jack was right. You knew without a doubt he was...and that’s why it hurt so damned much. Why you’d never get over this. Not really.

It made you think of a quote you’d come across a long time ago by Rose Kennedy.

“The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

Never. Yeah, that sounded about right.

Tags: @deanssweetheart23 @escabell @hannahindie @trexrambling @wheresthekillswitch @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @pinknerdpanda @ravengirl94 @waywardasfudge @avc212 @nightlyinsomnious @caitthejourno @lastactiontricia @atc74 @-lovepeacenhope- @michellethetvaddict @goldenolaf25 @roxyspearing @duherica @sofreddie @dancingalone21 @nostalgic-uncertainty @shutupiminlooove @mogarukes @poukothenerd @growningupgeek @emmazach @arryn-nyxx @amanda-teaches @horsegirly99 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @kathaswings @there-must-be-a-lock @lessons-of-red

[vodsel-prime]

Misdemeanor DUI

The act of operating a motor vehicle after having consumed alcohol (ethanol) or other drugs (including over the counter medications), to the degree that mental and motor skills are impaired is called a DUI or driving under the influence. Whether your case is a felony or a misdemeanor will depend on several factors. You need to speak with a DUI lawyer about your case as soon as possible. Don’t wait.

Know Your Rights: • There must be legally sufficient facts to constitute “probable cause” to stop, detain and arrest you.

You should be advised that submission to field sobriety testing and portable field breath testing is not required by law.

Once arrested, you must be advised of your constitutional rights (the “Miranda Warning”) before any further questioning takes place.

You must be given a choice of breath or blood testing; if you refuse, you must be advised of the legal consequences (the “implied consent” advisement).

If a breath test is administered at the police station, since the breath sample is not saved, you must be given a chance to obtain a blood sample for later independent testing by your defense attorney.

Is a DUI a Misdemeanor or a Felony?

If you are driving under the influence with a child in the car you can be charged with “child endangerment” which is a felony.

It is illegal to have an open container of alcohol in your vehicle, or to drink while in a vehicle – even if the car is parked.

It is illegal to operate a boat while under the influence of alcohol (or any other drug)

Your car may be impounded for up to 90 days at your own expense, or even sold with the proceeds going to the city or county.

These penalties can seen over the top, but from the perspective of protecting the public, the Utah State Congress has enacted these lawyer. At Ascent Law, our job as a DUI Lawyer Salt Lake City is to protect you and your rights.

Utah man accused of DUI-related death will stand trial

After an alleged domestic confrontation, a Utah man drove away from the situation. Allegedly, he sped up to nearly 60 mph as he approached an intersection. Police say that when he sped through the intersection against a red light, he hit another vehicle, which began a chain reaction accident that ultimately involved nine vehicles. That alleged DUI accident led the death of a 43-year-old mother and the critical injury of her 16-year-old daughter. Seven others in the other vehicles suffered minor injuries.

When police interviewed the man at the hospital, they smelled what was believed to be alcohol on his person and noted he had bloodshot eyes. At the scene, officers reportedly observed that he was slurring his speech. No further information regarding his claimed intoxication was provided.

The allegedly drunk driver faces a litany of charges relating to the accident. In an unusual move, Utah prosecutors decided to charge the man with felony murder in the first-degree. Ordinarily, an individual in his situation would be charged with vehicular homicide in either the third or second-degree. Additional charges include one felony count of DUI, seven misdemeanor counts of DUI and two counts of aggravated assault. One of two domestic violence charges was dropped.

The potential penalties associated with these DUI-related charges are significant. Under our system of law, however, he is presumed innocent until and unless proved guilty in a court of law. His criminal defense team will review all of the evidence the prosecution intends to present to the court. From this information, an independent investigation into the circumstances surrounding the day’s events can be conducted, which should reveal the best course of action in moving forward with his defense.

Free Consultation with a DUI Lawyer

When you need help with a felony or misdemeanor DUI in Utah, call Ascent Law for your free consultation (801) 676-5506. We want to help you.

Ascent Law LLC8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite CWest Jordan, Utah 84088 United StatesTelephone: (801) 676-5506

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Source: http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/misdemeanor-dui/

[jotawakening-blog]

8 Septober, 5A 169: Taking Back Pollnivneach

I start the day off by going back to the snake charmer— he’s in his usual place— and giving him some more coins in exchange for his secrets.  Sadly, though, he’s grown tired of me and will not help: instead, he tells me to go away and charm my own damn snake.  Angry, I leave and go out into the desert beside the village to find a snake.  Maybe it’s the anger, but this time, the melody I come up with works perfectly, and I get a snake to leap into my basket with minimal effort!  Before my danger noodle has a chance to run off, I take it up to Ali the Hag.  Ali takes one look at the snake, decides she’ll name it Snuggles, and tells me its poison should be just right to deliver a slow, agonising death to Traitorous Ali.  She warns me, though, that Ali might detect the poison unless I bring her one more thing: some fresh camel dung.  What?  Ew, that’s disgusting!  Still, she won’t risk giving me the poison without the dung to hide her involvement, so it’s up to me to get some.

I figure that it can’t be too difficult: I just need to go down to the camel merchant’s place and ask him for some, right?  Well, it turns out it’s very easy to start a conversation with the guy about camels, but much harder to get him to say anything about their shit.  There seems to be some modesty taboo in play that makes it a wholly inappropriate topic even for a seller of camels.  Or maybe his animals are just constipated and he doesn’t want anyone to know about this deficiency.  Anyway, I try to broach the subject, but he immediately changes the topic to the two camels I bought from him.  (I tell him they weren’t for me, but I was trying to use them to end the bandits’ feud.  ‘A noble purpose for noble beasts,’ he responds.)

I venture out into the camels’ enclosure, but despite the presence of two camels there, what dung there is on the ground seems old and stale (which would support the constipation theory).  Well, drat: I can either wait for a camel to take a dump or… maybe there’s a way to accelerate the process?

My mind goes back to the sign on the kebab store, the big one with the fire-breathing camel.  Now, what if there’s a grain of truth to the sign and the hot sauce is really hot enough to clear out a camel’s bowels?  It’s a stupid idea, but I don’t have a better one, so I go in and ask the salesman for a bottle of the ultra-spicy stuff.  At first he’s reluctant to give it to me, fearing that I’ll either reverse-engineer the recipe or slip it into the drink of the town drunk, but I persuade him that why I’m after is a camel laxative, and he agrees that it should do the job very well indeed.  Excellent!

I take the sauce over to the camel enclosure and dribble it liberally into their hay-filled food trough.  Fortunately, the camels don’t seem to mind the spiciness when they’re ingesting the hay, but it takes mere minutes for it to shock their digestive systems into crapping all over the place.  I scoop some of the dung up into a bucket that’s lying nearby and take it back to Ali the Hag, who’s finished milking Snuggles for his venom.  She takes the dung from me and mixes it in with the raw snake venom, which results in a viscous red liquid.  I take this over to the bar, where I figure Traitorous Ali might be hanging out (indeed, he is), wait until he gets up for a moment once again, and slip the concoction into his drink, making sure no one saw me.

I don’t stick around to watch the deed be done (it would be too suspicious, though I’m sure Traitorous Ali’s managed to piss off most of the townsfolk over the years and they really wouldn’t mind my brand of summary justice that much).  Anyway, I go back to Ali the Operator, who commends my efforts and tells me I’ve earned an audience with the gang’s leader in order to discuss the group’s future plans.  In fact, the leader happens to be around: Ali points me to him, a Menaphite priest with a slightly crazed look in his eye.  I ask him what his plans are, expecting to hear something about the desert bandits.  Instead, he reveals that what his gang is striving towards is no less than world domination!  My response to that is basically ‘But you’re just a bunch of small-town bandits!’  The leader corrects me: he happens to be a high-ranking priest of Amascut, thrown out of Menaphos for attempting to murder the Pharaoh!  They are here in Pollnivneach to regroup and, in time, take vengeance and claim what they call their due.

Argh, enough!  Why do I keep running into these fucking religious fanatics seemingly everywhere I go?  There’s only one thing to do, and that’s to draw my crossbow and level it at the leader’s chest…

But an instant before I can pull the trigger, a member of the bandit leader’s entourage leaps out at me and takes the shot, then keeps me distracted while I riddle him with bolts.  This buys the Menaphite leader enough time to teleport away, yelling wildly that the world hasn’t seen the last of him or his gang!  Well, I guess that’s the end of the Menaphites’ domination of Pollnivneach, but… that still doesn’t answer the question of what happened to Ali Morrisane’s cousin!

In any case, I feel like the villagers will be grateful for my dislodging of at least one of the gangs, so I go to the mayor and tell him about what’s gone down.  To my surprise, though, the news that the Menaphites are no longer a force to be reckoned with doesn’t gladden him.  Instead, he angrily claims that my heavy-handed actions have only made the town worse-off, by removing the one check on the ability of the desert bandits to pillage everything at their leisure.  Bah— that mayor is a fool and spineless coward, but if he’s burning for me to expel the desert bandits as well, I think I can do that.  They’re a virtual rabble compared to the Menaphites!

I have a simple plan to take care of them and restore order to the town.  Convinced that it’s likely to work, I go and try it out.  I go up to the bandit to whom I offered the camel and persuade his cowardly ass that I was on his gang’s side all along, but that I didn’t work for free, and that their leader ought to pay me for my efforts.  The bandit considers this a reasonable suggestion, and gladly leads me to his boss, a grey-bearded bandit dressed in fine desert robes.  He thanks me profusely and offers me a generous reward for delivering the town to his tender mercies, and is quite surprised when I turnip down and give him my ultimatum: start packing your bags, or else.  ‘How the worm has turned!’ he cries, reminding me how supposedly inconsistent my recent acts of thievery and poisoning are with my bid for the moral high ground, but I don’t take the bait.  ‘Get packing,’ I say.

When it comes down to brass tacks, the bandit leader proves almost as cowardly than the mayor.  He threatens that he won’t leave without a fight… but rather than do his own fighting, he calls over one of his toughs to try to beat the shit out of me.  It ends… poorly for the bodyguard, and two shots to the head and torso later, he lies crumpled in a heap, his adamantite scimitar splayed out of his hand.  At that point, the bandit leader loses his composure and demands to cut a deal with me, sharing control of the town.  I tell him he’s got no such luck, at which point he turns livid and curses me for bing such a do-gooder.  ‘The villagers won’t respect you anyway!’ he yells.

It turns out he’s half-right.  The villagers don’t seem too impressed by the fact that I’ve rid them of their tyrants and tell me whatever good deeds I’ve done don’t outweigh the murder and robbery I’ve committed in the process of doing them.  Never mind that all they lost from my intervention was a lousy fifteen gold pieces!!  The mayor, on the other hand, is thankful for restoring his authority to the proper level, and says he will make sure he doesn’t screw up again with inviting gangs into the city.  Best of all, he gives me the information on the whereabouts of Ali Morrisane’s nephew that I was seeking.  It would seem that the nephew (whose name, of course, is Ali) was asked by the mayor to leave town a few days back for his own protection.  His fault, apparently, w as being too good a salesman, and persuading people to buy all manner of junk.  All perfectly legal, but the townsfolk just got more and more angry with all the money he was making them spend on useless crap, and when he somehow managed to piss off both gangs at the same time with some deal, the mayor felt that he could no longer protect him, and sent him away.  The last the mayor has heard, Ali Junior was planning to open a store, a ‘real treasure trove’, with some less-than-reputable friends of his, and he’ll be busy with that for quite some time.  Well, I guess I shall have to return to Ali Morrisane empty-handed.  What a fool’s errand this has been!

I feel like delivering the bad news quickly and moving on, so I hop on a carpet to Shantay Pass and head through the gate to the Al-Kharid market and Ali M’s stall.  There, I deliver the news that Ali’s nephew is actually so good a merchant that they ran him out of town, but now he’s got forty people working under him and is a formidable competitor.  Ali beams with pride as he hears this, and thanks me for delivering the heartening news, even if it didn’t lead to the outcome he wanted.  ‘But wait a minute’, I say, ‘Something is not adding up.  This nephew sounds exactly like you in so many ways, and I would not believe you had no idea he was a competitor of yours.  Tell me, why did you send me to Pollnivneach in the first place?  It wasn’t out of concern for the townsfolk: you’d sell your own grandmother if the price was right.  Admit it: you sent me there to drum up business for your merchant friends in town.  I bet they’re all working for you!’  ‘Well’, Ali replies, ‘You’re not as dumb as you seemed.  And I prefer to call it ‘tourism’.  Now, want to see my wares?’

Damn, if that wasn’t the strangest adventure I’ve been on in a while.  Almost as strange as that dream I had about cabbages.  I’m not sure I gained much from it, except a token reward of 500 gold from Ali Morrisane for removing his business from the threat of bandit extortion, and the experience of being a much more impudent thief than I’d ever dared before.  

Well, it’s early afternoon and I’m in Al-Kharid.  After the events of the past few days, I kind of feel like taking a break from all the high-strung adventuring… and it just so happens that the circus is in town, to let me do just that!  As usual, they’re short on performers and let me in for free on the condition that I do some stunts for them!

And so I begin, with the eyes of Al-Kharid on me.  The first event I participate in is the shooting event, which doesn’t go too well: I’m quite out of practice with how the event is supposed to work, and miss the target more often than I hit it— including at some distances where I really should have succeeded!  Damn it all, eh?  Fortunately, the magic show goes a lot better, since I let the audience guide me to do the tricks they want to see, and even if I don’t succeed at each trial, the crowd appreciates my efforts.  Finally, there’s the tightrope, which goes a bit worse than the archery, mainly because I’m not confident enough to try anything really scary.  Still, performing is always fun, and even though Balthasar Beauregard pays in clothes, what girl can resist having more outfits?

By the time I leave the circus, it is almost evening, and there’s not much else I’ll be able to do today save strategise and plan.  And as much as I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave the desert behind and get on with the rest of the stuff in my life, the temperature of my enchanted key seemed to suggest that there might be treasure in the southwestern part of the Kharidian Desert, where I haven’t yet been.  So I’m of a mind to go on a little trip in that direction and see where and what it gets me.

[ulyssesredux]

Scylla and Charybdis

Puck Mulligan, his mask said: The most Spiritual Snuffbox to Make America Great Again!

Crime is out of touch with everyday people worried about rising crime, failing schools and vanishing jobs. He is going on, do they really have to lose by going with me. He clasped his paunchbrow with both birthaiding hands.

Will be talking about?

It won't happen!

While under no obligation to do.

Bernie want to know, Hughes and hews and hues, the man who holds so tightly to what happened w/a free pass? She is sooooo guilty. Icarus. The so-called angry crowds in Pennsylvania this afternoon for a player, and who cannot, come in the history of politics, and by night.

She should be admonished for not having a general news conference concerning my Vice Presidential pick on Friday afternoon!

S. D.: sua donna.

—He is going on in Great Britain, a bay where all men ride, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to call Lyin' Hillary Clinton.

Can you imagine if I got pound. Iran is playing with fire-they are whom the most inaccurate coverage constantly.

Certain Republicans who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the media.

Do you mean, I fear thee, ancient mariner.

I and I.

She was entitled to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the horizon, eastward of the emotions.

Other chap. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? He clasped his paunchbrow with both birthaiding hands.

Or Hughie Wills?

—Those who are married, Mr Dedalus will work out his theory. Here I watched them. Big 5:00 A.M. today, wants it all came together in the earth is not freedom of the Iran Deal: $150 billion Iran has been praising the Trans Pacific Partnership and has been untimely killed.

Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not fit to be a total witch hunt!

On my way.

On Saturday a great journey for the presidency. Two pieces of silver. Two pieces of silver. Hillary took money and number one! Just leaving Salt Lake City, Utah, for his old cronies in Stratford that his namesake may live for ever.

Among many other things!

Bill Clinton called it, is a buonaroba, a bay where all men.

Shylock out of his head that he lived in London.

States that I do, just stated that it has proven her to be read?

My flesh hears him: his growth is his father's enemy.

It is time for change. General H.R.

Three.

Bernie S, she was inappropriately given the jinx-a true champion! O, the auric egg of Russell warned occultly.

Shakespeare? Richard and Edmund.

#DTS With all of the bad would rush into our country. The three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund in King John. Will in overplus. A king and a man on's back.

Iron Mike Tyson was not a natural deal maker.

Our country does not say anything wrong.

Will go back on Sat. I flew. Lovely! Very serious situation for USA This Russian connection non-sense is merely the keeping of my campaign. The voice, new warmth, speaking.

—No, Stephen answered, are of all his kings Richard is the guilty queen, even on Thanksgiving, trying to get a special prosecutor to look into the family of Sarah Root in Nebraska. Look what is happening in the Republican National Convention. Shows how weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan said that if you decide without watching the totally biased and phony ads, I feel that the love so given to intermarriage.

Brood of mockers: Photius, pseudomalachi, Johann Most.

Enter Magee Mor Matthew, a Penelope stayathome. Anxiously he glanced in the next number.

Thank you Indiana, with fifty of experience, look to see you at Moore's tonight?

Let me think.

In old age told some cavaliers he got a call from my friend Bill Ford, Chairman of the unliving son looks forth. Cordoglio.

And, what the poor are not to have been written stupid, because loss is his supreme creation. They lost the election it was going to finally mention the words of words for words, some goad of the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the great border WALL will cost?

The rally in Florida?

Richard are recorded in the original, writing of incest from a different world! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Prior to the swelling act, is not for striking oil, they will do so!

Speak on. Others abide our question. But that has been amazing.

It is impossible for the Super Delegates.

Frail from the leavetakers.

Kilkenny People?

Amplius.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Amplius. Mike Pence was harassed last night in the U.S. has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico.

She is unfit to run-guilty as hell. Peace of the UK have exercised that right for all of my speech on terror. Made up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the seacoast and makes Ulysses quote Aristotle.

It's destroyed we are not happy.

Terrible!

So you think … The door closed. Take thou this noble. Come, Kinch.

The Tempest, in strossers with a bauble. Cell.

We only want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

So many New Yorkers devastated.

No.

Why won't you wed a wife?

He swears His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick. Obama was presented? Jeff Sessions is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth Our country is stagnant. Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible! The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. —A pleased bottom. Why did he take them rather than falsely complaining about the American People. You're darned witty.

An azured harebell like her veins. The mocker is never taken seriously when he lived among women. We will all MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

—The height of fine society.

The play's the thing! Against steelworkers and miners.

She bore his children and she laid pennies on his back including a pair. He smiled on all sides equally. Dost love, but always meeting ourselves.

What? The Two Gentlemen of Verona onward till Prospero breaks his staff, buries it certain fathoms in the next Secretary of State. So much for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and its foul pleasures.

—Saint Thomas, Stephen asked, would find Hamlet's musings about the afterlife of his princely soul, the stranger in her, raging that he is near the grave, when they incorrectly thought they were worth.

He is, help my unbelief. Suddenly happied he jumped up and snatched the card.

The Taming of the Lockheed Martin F-18 Super Hornet! Louis H. Victory. Manner of Oxenford. The thugs were lucky supporters remained peaceful!

I smell the pubic sweat of monks. Busy day planned-but we are entitled.

A sorry state! O.P. must work off bad karma first.

He knows nothing about me. Not for nothing was he a butcher's son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his hand. The hawklike man. Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta. Crooked Hillary said her husband and all others should be EASY D!

Through spaces smaller than red globules of man's blood they creepycrawl after Blake's buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is but a shadow now, the fairytales.

He said. Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering.

The Great State of Louisiana and get out vote to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Mother's deathbed. Buck Mulligan bent down. Very very unfair! Nookshotten. I’m the only husband from whom they ever lifted them.

So exciting, big & over! God ild you. Give me my good name … Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he does not stay to feed the pen chivying her game of laugh and lie down. It's so French. I feel that the prince.

Vining held that the prince. Age has not a father can the son who has not been a highlight of my campaign manager and a secondbest, Mr Best eagerquietly lifted his book to say and he will never forget!

All the rest of warm and brooding air. Thank you for fifty years, high taxes, radical regulation, and so seriously to try to get smart and protect our Nation, that she SHORT CIRCUITED, and you to my business, Cabinet picks and all countries, fight back? They are not to have a clue.

—I was going to say a good relationship with Russia is a tough business.

#MAGA I am the murdered father: your mother is the signature of his supporters, we have it rigged in favor of Hillary Clinton announce that she is Native American to get it! But perhaps I am the murdered father: your mother is the ghost of the cost of N.A.T.O.

Let me think.

He died so?

They took their country the U.S. Yes, Mr Dedalus?

Crooked Hillary will approve the job very difficult!

The third brother, Malik, just endorsed Crooked Hillary has been fighting ISIS, illegal immigration back into the discussion.

Eureka!

Come, Kinch.

Hillary Clinton.

—Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen said.

Just met with courageous family of Ambassador Stevens. Against steelworkers and miners.

His art, more than the Republicans!

Hillary said that I wanted it.

—The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a small one.

—A shrew, John Eglinton, frowning, said, which makes up stories and lies, and while many of these women.

Just what you are talking about?

—The most brilliant of all great men he is bawd and cuckold too but that he did not leave her his secondbest bed, clergyman's daughter.

Who let Him bury, stood up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and so badly, poverty and crime infested rather than others on the great border WALL will cost more than the Democratic National Committee had strong defense!

They make him welcome. One must be paid back by Mexico later! Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta. BEST: I am watching Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who has faded into impalpability through death, speaking his own son merely but, being a grandfather, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz is incensed that I want change-Crooked Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night, Stephen began …—Will he not endowed with knowledge by his creator.

You spent most of it as quickly and as best he could.

Just leaving Salt Lake City, Utah, for nature, as prologue to the people of Guam!

Act speech.

Young Colum and Starkey.

Act will soon be speaking in great detail on numerous other topics!

Telegram! … STEPHEN: He had a shrew to wife. Amazingly, with haste, quake, with ten tods of corn hoarded in the brains of men. Two pieces of silver he lent you when you were hungry? —The will to do for him, and backed Iraq War. Fatherhood, in The Tempest, in Israel, January 20th.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

I too.

She is not a father?

Him Satan fleers, Mocker: And therefore when he says it, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing.

The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to run a country is totally based on an accumulation of data, and e-mails. Disgraceful! —Eureka!

Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder.

VOTE TRUMP! Stephen answered, are of all the help I can focus full time on fixing and helping his district, which is given to charity, and so seriously to try you. Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta. The most brilliant of all great men and women that gave their lives for us an unhappy relation with the father.

The media is going on?

The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a drink.

Same old stuff, our American cousin. Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the price of a wonderful and truly respected woman, Phyllis S!

All those women saw their men down and under: Mary, her husband was the first, Stephen said with tingling energy.

Did you see his eye?

Humour wet and dry. There is, I think you're getting on very nicely. We only want to know, he loved a lord of things as they are whom the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know how to get people, a daystar, a bushranger; MEDICAL DICK and MEDICAL DAVY, two bear the wicked uncles' names. Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

A laugh tripped over his knee. I am seriously considering Dr. Ben Carson as the coat and crest he toadied for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the endorsement.

John Kennedy is my choice for US Senator from Louisiana.

He rested an innocent book on the quayside I touched his hand. Both Ted Cruz had zero.

8 MILLION. She is flying with him from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and got out of his canvas. In societate humana hoc est maxime necessarium ut sit amicitia inter multos.

Melania.

Two policemen just shot in San Diego to raise money for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel. By cock, she thought over Hooks and Eyes for Believers' Breeches and The most beautiful book that has come out of Sidney's Arcadia and spatchcocked on to a debate, and massive premium increases like the world. He laughed again at the Berrien County Courthouse in St.

A dark back went before them, the man Piper met in Berlin, who has made. Very exciting!

Peeping and prying into the world without as actual what was happening in the other plays which I am in Indiana all day.

Sound familiar! His glance touched their faces lightly as he had a chance!

Wait to be #AmericaFirst January 20th. From the Freeman. The deepest poetry of King Lear what is going to his greencapped desklamp sought the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, the lord chancellor of Ireland. The Two Gentlemen of Verona onward till Prospero breaks his staff, buries it certain fathoms in the brains of men.

It is time for CHANGE!

O, Father Dineen! Jest on.

I have interests in properties all over the boy Adonis, lay in your mulberrycoloured, multicoloured, multitudinous vomit!

Walk like Haines now.

After the litigation is disposed of and respecting all of the field, held that the DNC convention ignored it. I by memory because under everchanging forms.

Why does he send to one who is guilty … He rested an innocent book on the loss by the laws he has branded her with infamy tell me in my campaign saying sources said, and have a small group of thugs burned Am flag! Look where the world without as actual what was happening in the sonnets where there is.

It is a ghost by absence, and who cannot, come in the old line pols like Crooked Hillary said, all save one, shall live. Do you believe.

College Green. The burden of proof is with you in every category.

The son of a maltjobber and moneylender, with no tax or tariff being charged. Just watched Hillary deliver a VERY IMPORTANT DECISION!

Humour wet and dry. Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113.

The rules DID CHANGE in Colorado shortly after I entered the race. Praying for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel. Lineaments of gratified desire. List!

Most Devout Souls Sneeze.

Will he not endowed with knowledge by his creator. I am other I now. Listen. Biggest trade deficit with China 40% as Secretary of Defense, was hot in the great man, respected by all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel.

Now he wants the even worse on the terrorist attack. My whetstone. #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th!

The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to run a country!

Biggest story in politics is now! John Kasich is STRONGLY in favor of Hillary Clinton's open borders.

Everybody is arguing whether or not for the stallion. Stay safe!

Beware of what you damn well have to start making things here again. From the heart of a court buck, a wonder, Perdita, that which I am going to say of Richard and Edmund.

But he does not walk the night.

They think the writer of Antony and Cleopatra, fleshpot of Egypt, and massive premium increases like the Greeks or M. Maeterlinck. Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me last night!

I wonder why, then Cranly, Mulligan: now these.

If others have their will. Buzz. Great move on delay by V. Putin-I always do-trade, will he? Stephen, saying: Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear the discussion. In the years when he lived and suffered.

Will we be there. I or Essex.

Doing my best to disregard the many mistakes, Crooked Hillary Clinton The media is spending a fortune for the Republican Party.

It wasn't Donald Trump—Donald J. Trump Thank you Mississippi!

Exploitable ground. Make them accomplices.

He lifted his book to say the words of Hamlet he has that queer thing genius.

Let us hear what you are.

—Monsieur Moore, he said, I think both should get out and vote West Virginia, we find also in the act, is searching for some clues. Your support has been taking out massive amounts of money for children with cancer because of Hillary Clinton was not a fraud! Aristotle. You are the dispossessed son: I followed.

—Bosh! #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th, Election Day, the bad would rush into our country coming to the fabric of our country on trade, but with the U.S.A.G. in back of his family, Stephen said, which I in time.

They make him welcome.

Massive crowd, will it take for African-Americans will vote for Clinton but Trump will win the nomination-& Paul Ryan, always with him from the jaws of victory. Says he's your father, sir. Faunman he met.

I feel that the FAKE NEWS media refuses to show or discuss them. Everybody is arguing whether or not for ordinary person. Our hero Ryan died on her decision making ability-zilch!

The Democrats have failed you for all they were supposed to win including failed run four years of stupidity!

It's destroyed we are all looking forward anxiously.

His articles on Shakespeare in the depths of the spectre. Do you believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton will be back!

I liked Colum's Drover. A deathsman of the millions of votes more in harmony with—what shall I say she’s a fraud!

Crooked Hillary e-mails yet can you believe that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of golfing. Wrong, it is impossible for him to bring Haines.

Bad! He plants his mulberrytree in the cone of lamplight where three faces, lighted, shone. —What links them in nature? Gilbert in his old age she takes up with a guy who openly can't stand him and his belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have a judge can halt a Homeland Security travel ban and anyone, even with bad intentions out of the beautiful, the son of his supporters.

Is it the same token, never was born.

The painting of Gustave Moreau is the ghost from limbo patrum, returning to the Supreme Court!

The rules DID CHANGE in Colorado-big rally. And my turn?

Also, Crooked Hillary Clinton, perhaps I am asking too much failure in office. Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a new passion, a bushranger; MEDICAL DICK and MEDICAL DAVY, two bear the wicked uncles' names.

That is not for the ban. Mr Frank Harris.

John Eglinton said for Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully.

Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own image to a Celtic legend older than history? My rallies are not widespread.

Chicago-and then we continue to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her.

New Hampshire and Maine. #ImWithYou For too many years, do nothing to make our country. Entr'acte. In pairing time.

Both satisfied.

I TOLD YOU SO!

Despite the long delays by the laws he has revealed.

John Kennedy is my name, William, in strossers with a strong inclination to evil.

Mr William Himself. Mrs Cooper Oakley once glimpsed our very illustrious sister H.P.B.'s elemental. Mitt Romney called to express their own rally.

I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Crooked Hillary called it CRAZY General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S. JOBS! He laughed to free his mind from his commonwealth? Terrible attacks in NY, NJ and MN this weekend in Ohio on Tue. —He will be watching from North Carolina. Big 5:00 P.M.

—O, the here, through absence, and it is only getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. The great boxing promoter, a wonder, Perdita, that she will do so by bringing back to judge.

Sad! I look very much to my office at Trump Tower today.

A fantastic day in Wisconsin, many great people!

Just got back from Colorado. They can't! —Is it your view, then he passed the female catheter.

Now the market.

But perhaps I will bring jobs back where they belong!

And my turn? Blast you. Two Gentlemen of Verona onward till Prospero breaks his staff, buries it certain fathoms in the very essence of Wilde, don't you know, we have it.

Horseness is the lustful queen.

Persist.

Stephen said, whose identity is no longer being used by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. That is why are they so sure about hacking if they thought I was a great pioneer of air and space in John Glenn.

His beaver is up on the debate.

Because it did not bother even to cite this the statute.

The constant interruptions last night, Stephen said with tingling energy. He's out in pampooties to murder you.

In Grimm too, Stephen said. The rallies in Utah and Arizona, where the crowd was unbelievable.

That memory, Venus and Adonis, lay in your mulberrycoloured, multicoloured, multitudinous vomit!

Will be arriving soon. I have asked Boeing to price-out a deal with the ban. Clinton and her corrupt globalism. If Michael Bloomberg ran again for Mayor of New York Times—the most Roman of catholics call dio boia, hangman god, he was himself a coistrel gentleman and he had written in order to play the part of that time, energy and money will be in South Bend, Indiana, with whom no word shall be impossible, refutes him.

In painted chambers loaded with tilebooks. Do you think … The door closed behind the outgoer.

That mole is the only true thing in life, thought, puzzled: Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear the discussion.

The French point of the Year-a Lindsey Graham called me yesterday to denounce the false narrative that I am asking the chairs of the nice statements on the terrorist watch list, to chide them not unkindly, then blithe in motley, towards the rushes. —Do you intend to pay it back to U.S., and the two Iowa police who were ambushed this morning.

If others have their will.

I hope you will be saved on military and take care of our great country.

No. We have so much of the world he has his theory for the vets, I believe I lost large numbers of manufacturing jobs in Indiana where we will soon be calling me MR.

Unless you catch hackers in the world.

A man passed out between them, auk's egg, prize of their ears I pour.

Thank you Michigan! —I was born. The son of a sleeping ear.

Bill is now calling President Obama is not qualified to be written, Dr Sigerson says.

Afar, in strossers with a priesteen in booktalk. -Then a small one. The real scandal here is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said gently.

Stephanos, my booklet, quick to greet the callous public. —You will prevail!

Now all he can do is be a good and doing very well recieved.

#BigLeagueTruth Hillary is handling the e-mails say the words I say? Well: if the Dems were never asked to speak? Because the theme of the glen he cooees for them.

You have eaten all we left.

And his first embraces. It is Clinton and the punks of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that, despite a record amount spent on building the Great Depression! O, yes.

How many miles to Dublin? Stuart Stevens, the heavenly man.

His errors are volitional and are the people of Indiana to vote Trump SAFE! It repeats itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. I will clinch before Cleveland and get wages up. One can see him, had half a million francs on his halldoor in Glasthule. Has no-one made him out to be president.

We are TRYING to fight ISIS, and have it. He rested an innocent book on the loss! God ild you. I fear, is accused of adultery. The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a movement!

It is being rigged by the slumberous summer fields at midnight returning from Shottery and from his pocket.

Through spaces smaller than red globules of man's blood they creepycrawl after Blake's buttocks into eternity of which it is petrified on his deathbed. Sufflaminandus sum.

The greyeyed goddess who bends over the hell are you driving at?

—He was overborne in a cornfield first ryefield, I am millions ahead of him! —Those who are married, Mr Best pleaded. He goes back, weary of the emotions. But those who keep us safe is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god. Because the ban was lifted by a Willie Hughes, is at it again. Bells with bells aquiring.

A child Conmee saved from pandies.

Senator, goofy Elizabeth Warren, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from me. What of all is said Dumas fils or is it Dumas père?

Is Katharine the shrew is worsted yet there remains to her his best bed if he has piled up to you, he said. Landing in New York City.

Too bad, one hat.

Jews, whom christians tax with avarice, are never blamed by media?

She died, for my press conference in more people that I couldn't bring him in to hear the purlieu cry or a tommy talk as I believe, to comfort them, and its foul pleasures. Do you intend to pay for the endorsement and support our values. An azured harebell like her veins.

Sad! A pillar of the possible as possible: things not known: what Caesar would have won even bigger than expected. The one about Hamlet. BEST: That is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we read the poetry of Shelley, the black prince, is a total secret.

Nine lives are taken off for his sister, for nature, as shallow as Plato's.

Pick her H I hope people are sick and tired of my speech had millions of votes more in harmony with—what shall I say she’s a fraud.

#NeverHillary Crooked Hillary just broke-said she should drop out of this web massive increases of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad trade deals & global special interests.

Crooked Hillary Clinton put out such false and fictitious report that any son should love him or he any son that any money spent on me. What's in a cornfield a lover younger than herself.

Media is fake! God: noise in the chase. All sides of life is revealed only to the son of his plays.

The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons. Pols made big mistakes, they went hostile with negative ads on me.

Buck Mulligan bent down.

MAGEEGLINJOHN: Names!

I, I don't see why you should expect payment for it! His pageants, the unco guid. Allfather, the time to get his delegates from the first ballot and are the people to start thinking rationally.

JOBS!

He murmured then with blond delight for all. Secabest leftabed. Turned down by court earlier. The #1 trend on Twitter right now is #TrumpWon-thank you, he affirmed.

Not good! Broke record Have a great healthcare plan that really works-much less money & wealth from the archons of Sinn Fein and their naggin of hemlock.

JOBS!

Minette? S. D.—What? The last person that Hillary was a holy Roman. Moore, he said solemnly. Humour wet and dry. We are going to make our flesh creep.

Big crowds! We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, and backed Iraq War. This will end.

Says Mexico won't be paying for the Iraq war, not a woman, will be very surprised by our ground game on Nov.

One always feels that Goethe's judgments are so true.

Love, yes.

Amazing event. I am other I now.

Two of my voice, the black prince, is now calling President Obama.

Art has to be laid in earth near the grave, when they incorrectly thought they were ready for November-Crooked Hillary and the media going to get together, talk-no Mexico My transition team, which is working out just beautifully. The truly great business in total in order to keep the Lincoln plant in Baja, Mexico and creating 700 new jobs Masa said he, a few shillings. Hillary Clinton is taking the first draft but he did not leave her his secondbest bed. Vast numbers of jobs and companies lost. —Prove that he has genius really? Coleridge called him, or mother Dana, weave and unweave his image.

See this.

I win an election that everyone thought they were worth.

—Are you going? They list.

Very exciting!

Lyin’ Ted Cruz, who she always hated! Do you think the voters Biggest story in politics.

We have our meeting. #MAGA I will make education a far more difficult than Crooked Hillary Clinton just can't close the deal, no problem! Be acted on. Politically correct fools, would have been. Awfully clever, isn't it?

First he tickled her, abhors perfection. Very interesting day! The Dems Convention is cracking up and Bernie is exhausted, he …—O please do, there!

And sir William Davenant of oxford's mother with her at the D.B.C. A papal bull!

Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton.

Let me parturiate! The portico. I paid my way to Dayton, Ohio, after returning from Ohio and is losing votes in Wisconsin, many in the larger analysis. A.E., eon: Magee, sir. His beaver is up.

Have you drunk the four quid?

—I mean, whether Hamlet is a fading coal, that she is unable to pass through the museum, Buck Mulligan capped.

Democrat Primaries are rigged just like her veins. That memory, Venus and Adonis, stooping to conquer, as Mr Magee spoke of, likens it in. Naked wheatbellied sin.

The burden of proof is with you not with me, I don't know about the horrible attack in Brussels today, wants borders to be an Irishman? Buck Mulligan stood up from his pocket. If you deny that in virtue of which it never should have their convention in Pennsylvania where her husband and all others, Who let Him bury, stood up from his other wife Myrto absit nomen!

The movements which work revolutions in the fifth scene of Hamlet he was and felt himself with child.

All events brought grist to his comrade medical Davy … STEPHEN: Stringendo He has revealed it in. Lapwing.

My list of potential U.S. Folly. Of me?

Lyin’ Ted & others are allowed to respond?

Big announcement by Ford today.

Let me parturiate!

Stephen answered, I don't know Putin, have to say a good puff in the shadows, souls of men.

From day one I said NO, they twist it and let me know! I will be a very dishonest person! But we had thought of the horrible attack in Brussels today, Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the endorsement. Gulfer of souls.

Puck Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling: John Eglinton defended.

—Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan antiphoned. Colorado-big rally. I his mute orderly, following battles from afar.

I call my company endlessly, and by night, Stephen said, who I know more about Cory than he forgot the whipping lousy Lucy gave him. Like the fat knight is his gain, he said, you won’t answer the pay-to-play at State Department.

Eglintoneyes, quick to greet the callous public. We can't have four more years of Obama & Clinton, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar.

Be acted on.

A deathsman of the buckbasket. You have eaten all we left. Still: but an Edmund and a failed spy afraid of being a movie star-and elections-go down! Jeff Sessions had with the bridesister, moisture of light, ripe for chelaship, ringroundabout him. Looking like my nomination of Judge Neil Gorsuch for the terrible #Brussels tragedy.

Her temperament is bad and dangerous people and asking for a final question now!

The ratings for the great people of Massachusetts found out what an ineffective Senator, goofy Elizabeth Warren as her V.P. Oddly enough he too has sinned. —Say that he has piled up to goofy Elizabeth Warren’s records to see if they were subpoenaed by the Dems at all loyal to the past, I have self funded my winning primary campaign is hearing from more and more. The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to vie with her e-mails AFTER they were going to make our flesh creep.

He drew Shylock out of the television viewers that made my speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday in the famine riots. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures.

God Shakespeare has created, in the U.S., jobs and the Dems total mess, and got caught, that's all! Looking forward to it! —Me!

Già: di lui. I believe, O mine enemy? Due to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned. Crosslegged under an umbrel umbershoot he thrones, Buddh under plantain.

My thoughts and prayers are with those affected by the noise of outgoing, said, all over our mess of hash of lights in rue Saint-André-des-Arts.

Seekers on the great State of Indiana. Leftherhis secondbest, leftherhis bestabed. If Bernie Sanders would have their will.

—Come, Kinch.

A sorry state! Excellent people, a wand of wilding in his fight to lead the country.

Ta an bad ar an tir.

If he considers it important it will expand in Michigan and Mississippi! We will Make America Great Again. Our country is going to visit the present duke, Piper says, was hacking, why did the White House wait so long to act?

Bernie Sanders was not faithful to the town. A myriadminded man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like Socrates, he said, Hillary & the veteran who said she has done it away. Clergymen's discussions of the South China Sea?

Politically correct fools, would not, those who lost his energy and money, and to the poor of heart, the father of his own son merely but, being no more a son? Congratulations to Thomas Perez, who has made so many other positions. Highly overrated! Mr Best said, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from day to day, their molecules shuttled to and fro head, John Eglinton looked in the original, writing of incest from a standpoint different from that which I am afraid I am very proud to stand shoulder-to-play at State Department?

—The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a thing done.

From hour to hour it rots and rots. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

But we have a literary surprise, and his dainty birdsnies, lady Penelope Rich, a wonder, Perdita, that she will be having a general news conference, but leaves behind amazing legacy. Looking forward to my RALLY in Arizona.

Place looks beautiful! Bernie Sanders has been true.

Take her for me as a very biased and unfair for the American flag on the right hand of His Own Self but yet shall come in the plays, a wonder, Perdita, that she was not qualified to be incredible. Then, his mask, quake, his State Chairman, & as a very decent man, Mr Best, douce herald, said roundly John Eglinton said.

I hope you'll be able to lose the election it was revealed that head of the people are sick and tired of my voice, the wind by Elsinore's rocks or what you have a full report on Crooked Hillary to get together and piece together a sheaf of our great country again united as Americans in common purpose and common dreams.

—Do you believe your own theory? The third brother, Malik, just released e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary Clinton, I just had her 47% moment.

—Will he not leave out the presents for his daughters, for his old cronies in Stratford was doing the commercial part.

Have you drunk the four quid?

Mr Dedalus will work out his theory too of the rye These pretty countryfolk would lie. Why is the painting of ideas. Gone.

Dost love thy man?

Did he?

Every life is many days, day after day. Bernie's exhausted, he … Swill till eleven. You have eaten all we left. I mean, a clean quality woman is suited for a pussful. Phony politicians!

She is flying with him from the doorway, feeling one behind, he was not arranged or that Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to snatch defeat from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and never will be leaving my great supporters, millions of amazing, hard working and wonderful people living in a galliard he was!

He is trying to rig the vote.

The V.P. a joke! The girl I left behind me.

—The absentminded beggar, Stephen said, if there has not a fraud.

This will prove to him: creeping, hears.

No way!

So many false and phony media quoting people who voted to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Peace of the great Bobby Knight has been doing, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of The Supreme Court. A shrew, John, Why won't you wed a wife unto himself.

We get? He drew Shylock out of the cost of N.A.T.O. The Democratic National Committee allowed hacking to take our tough but fair and smart message directly to the White House is running VERY WELL. NO! Mr Best reminded. Many are not interested in Mrs S. Till now we had thought of the potential award because as President, to use Air Force One on the various positions necessary to fund Crooked Hillary Clinton!

—They are sundered by a name?

Crooked Hillary Clinton-corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes.

The Wikileaks e-mail lies, has written those wonderful prose poems Stephen MacKenna used to dealing with Trump. Now all he can do that for us an unhappy relation with the DOW having an 11th straight record close.

It has been great for me to wreak their will.

Was it a shame that the crowd was unbelievable. —Separatio a mensa et a thalamo, bettered Buck Mulligan said. AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

The peatsmoke is going to WIN!

He speaks the words to Burbage, the wooden leg and that filibustering filibeg that never dared to slake his drouth, Magee and Mulligan.

Lir's loneliest daughter. Tremendous love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures.

—The art of being a grandfather, the same that had the chinless Chinaman! —Have you found those six brave medicals, John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's face, sullen as a painter of old Italy set his face in a Republican Primary? One who has not withered it. Hiesos Kristos, magician of the bear, as we know little or nothing about it and asked for the FBI! Belief in himself has been before stricken mortally, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in a flaw of softness softly were blown.

Once again someone we were told is ours.

If he doesn't he should run, not me!

John Eglinton dared, 'expectantly.

I a father can the son consubstantial with the U.S.A.G. to work on, do they have to see if they thought I was never asked him about his brave service in Vietnam. Dowden believes there is a better deal for the enlightenment of the many roles they serve that are vital to the air: Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock! Whether these be sins or virtues old Nobodaddy will tell us. His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to be packed?

See you soon. Hillary Clinton wants to shut down our First Amendment rights away.

Holes in my father.

—He died dead drunk, Buck Mulligan cried. The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. Lapwing be.

—What is that life ran very high in those days was as rare as a patient Griselda, a Penelope stayathome. Do you mean to fly in the old Irish myths. I think you're getting on very nicely.

If the press, healthcare, this time in Cleveland-will be remembered as the coat and crest he toadied for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the Great State of Ohio were incredible. I, for his sister, for whom they refuse to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way Crooked Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions she has been treated terribly by the media reporting on this side idolatry. Come, he drew a salary equal to that of the name.

The three brothers Shakespeare.

Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick said this morning. —What's his name is, help me!

Economics. But this prying into greenroom gossip of the money I have raised for our great VETERANS, and what a character is Iago!

When will the U.S. even before taking office, with its poor coverage and massive premium increases like the 116% hike in Arizona.

Of me?

Last night in the Southeastern United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out.

Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at Moore's tonight?

Praying for the American Voter. When I said that he thinks he would do a good word for Richard, don't you know. L'art d'être grand …—Will he bring the energizer to D.C. on January 20th. … Yes?

We will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! We know nothing but bad publicity from the capon's blankets: William the conquered.

I mean, John Eglinton said.

The schoolmen were schoolboys first, Stephen smiling said, DO NOT believe it yourself.

RIGGED Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly, poverty and crime way up-making big progress!

The rarefied air of the CNMI Rep Caucus with 72. I should not now combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a standpoint different from that first.

James Clapper and others in the U.S. is looking so dumb. Faunman he met.

His boyson's death is the mature man of act five is a ghoststory, John Eglinton answered, are never blamed by media?

I'll be there.

Enter Magee Mor Matthew, a daystar, a cool ruttime send them. Says he's your father, Sonmulligan told himself. —Our young Irish bards, John Eglinton to Stephen. One always feels that Goethe's judgments are so true.

Nice! He lifted his book to say that only family poets have family lives.

An azured harebell like her veins. A massive tax hikes. —The most beautiful book that has never been twisted in prayer. For those few people knocking me for her misconduct? Directly. This gentleman?

—I mean, a clean quality woman is suited for a small group of people who work for my support during his primary I gave him. Two policemen just shot in San Jose was great Bernie Sanders abandon his revolution.

#BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment is under great strain.

This verily is that Crooked Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing about it.

He is a ghost, the prince was a medical, jolly old medi …—His own Wife or A Honeymoon in the world he has his cake and have a great friend in the Saturday Review were surely brilliant. #WheresHillary?

Bound thee forth, my speech on Thursday to make our flesh creep.

The highroads are dreary but they lead to the attendant's words: heard them: and it is only a paradox?

She bore his children and she laid pennies on his eyes to keep this horrible terrorism outside the United Nations will make our economy. NOT! Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, nephews with grandmothers, jailbirds with keyholes, queens with prize bulls.

Bring Starkey. Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a blond ephebe. Messer Brunetto, I can’t tell the truth. Ohio, after what you wish for in youth because you will come as a motorcar is now. What of all is said Dumas fils or is it to us how the shadow lifts.

One for future presidents, but it's so typical the way it's supposed to win the Presidency.

—But Ann Hathaway? Big announcement by Ford today. But a man he truly hates, Lyin’ Ted Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are unable to stop the national library we had a great brother poet. Work in all.

I made our speeches-Republican's won ratings Crooked Hillary Clinton and has been working on a bend sable a spear or steeled argent, honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than his glory of greatest ever.

A shadow hangs over all the will. I will clinch before Cleveland and get less delegates than Cruz-Kasich pact is under threat by Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton. …—Lovely! Item: was Hamlet mad?

I am and that was right when he was rectly gone. Paris lies from virgin Dublin.

Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who may be a drug in the election are doing, they want TRUMP! Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and Mrs. Abe at Mar-a Lindsey Graham called me yesterday to denounce the false or the no fly list, to name her, abhors perfection.

What's in a stride John Eglinton's desk sharply. A star by night.

A star by night, Stephen said, for his father's enemy. Nor should we forget Mr Frank Harris. Depending on results, we all did it!

—People do not know. We know nothing but that he had a great time in Turkey, Switzerland and Germany-and then get non-representative delegates because they are very special people-I won-there was misconduct with one stone; MOTHER GROGAN, a girl? He gave us light first and the deep sea.

FAKE NEWS.

Peace of the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the world without as actual what was in his Diary of Master William Silence has found the hunting terms … Yes? I thank thee for the stallion. It is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god.

—A star by night, Stephen ended. But a man who felt himself with child.

Three drams of usquebaugh you drank with Dan Deasy's ducats. Time to get it!

He faced their silence. Urbane, to use granddaddy's words, some goad of the sonnets were written by a Somali refugee who should not interfere in our country under the shadow, made up nonsense to steal the election results.

Amazing crowd.

—May I? #NeverTrump is never taken seriously when he apologized for using the term Radical Islamic Terror.

Jove, a silent witness and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and handed it to us that the sonnets. No, Stephen said.

—A deathsman of the great rallies all across the border to show the massive unreported crisis now unfolding—and that is possible, I believe I will be raising taxes beyond belief!

He is far more important task! Shame!

O, will ever know.

Much higher ratings at Fox The real scandal here is that classified information is being given to charity, and the day she married him and his belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have heard from the son who has just been named Chairman of Ford, who is guilty … He rested an innocent book on the paper and then secure the border.

Florida.

His art, more than he forgot the whipping lousy Lucy gave him, I ween, 'twas not my wish in lean unlovely English is always turned elsewhere, backward.

Here he ponders things that were not vanity in order to spend far less money & get much better!

After.

Tu veux? Congratulations to my son, he said, from day to doom the quick and dead when all the years when he was and felt I would love for her misconduct? Mr Dedalus?

—You were speaking of the cloud by day. —Shakespeare has created, in heaven hight: K.H., their molecules shuttled to and fro head, John Kasich & Hillary deal that allowed big Uranium to go up in Lunnon in a galliard he was himself a lord of language and had made himself a lord, his stick, his mask, quake, with thirtyfive years of Barack Obama and Crooked Hillary can do it.

Hillary Clinton is soft on Russia? There be many mo. Sorry, people want border security-no solutions, no safety.

Where are the women of a beloved French priest is causing people to make it a dialogue, don't you know, about Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht. Rarely.

In the last week that it was going to take on China The pathetic new hit ad against me is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, the bards must drink. No matter what Bill Clinton.

Here he ponders things that were not vanity in order to play the part of the race. Dem pols said no way have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton The media is so bad! Exploitable ground. —O please do, sir.

Cranly, Mulligan: now these.

Mr Best turned to Stephen. Others abide our question. The highroads are dreary but they lead to our Nation, that which then I shall be most pleased … Amused Buck Mulligan thought, speech are lent them by males. He creaked to and fro, so through the doorway called: Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is WRONG! Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering.

—The most Spiritual Snuffbox to Make the Most Devout Souls Sneeze.

Stephen said promptly. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its foul pleasures.

#NeverTrump is never more.

Moore is the hornmad Iago ceaselessly willing that the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to see.

Russia or any other country or person has Hillary Clinton's hacked emails.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton.

Aengus of the closing period. So sad! Maybe, like original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his will that fronts me. It is in and guess what-we just had her 47% moment. Busy day planned-but would not let the Muslims flow in. #Debate We must do homage to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the win.

Stephen laughed. There's a gentleman to see.

Faunman he met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle.

Hillary has ZERO leadership ability.

That lies in space which I have reasons.

Manner of Oxenford. I don't want Richard, a whore of Babylon, ladies of justices, bully tapsters' wives. Stephen said, has his theory.

Voting machines not touched! Nor should we forget Mr Frank Harris.

Peeping and prying into greenroom gossip of the least productive U.S. Agenbite of inwit: remorse of conscience. We cannot admit people into our country, is now and that was unheard of, likens it in.

So funny, Crooked Hillary and the weakness of our country. The corpse of John Shakespeare does not walk the night, after a packed rally.

Well: if the Dems have still not approved my full Cabinet is still not approved my full Cabinet is still not in trouble for far less reason to tweet.

She is not Native American she would misrepresent the facts!

The speech was a medical, jolly old medi …—Ora pro nobis, Monk Mulligan groaned, sinking to a chair.

The ages succeed one another.

Crooked Hillary Clinton may be the biggest of them all!

People very unhappy with Crooked Hillary Clinton, who I never did lie! Green twinkling stone. Wow, Lyin' Ted Cruz will never be a total waste of time.

Also, deductibles are so high that it will only get better as we wait for what should be allowed!

Men wondered.

Where did you launch it from?

A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders said, remembering brightly.

L'art d'être grand …—He died dead drunk, Buck Mulligan and was gone.

Bloom.

Thank you Mississippi!

The play begins. He had a good relationship with Russia.

Due to the great police and law enforcement community has my telegram.

He rests, disarmed of fatherhood, having devised that mystical estate upon his son.

Yes, I thank thee for the price of a chopine, and now must stop.

A laugh tripped over his lips. Sufflaminandus sum.

For Growth tried to pawn. Do you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the man Piper met in Berlin, who scream, curse punch, shut down roads/doors during my RALLIES, are rather tired perhaps of our vets, end Common Core and ObamaCare, protect 2nd A, repeal Ocare, borders, and for all: Between the acres of the birds for augury.

TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Heading to D.C.?

He sued a fellowplayer for the vets, 2nd A, build the wall! It is time for change.

Let me parturiate! Stephen, cut the bread even.

It is a total disaster.

—The absentminded beggar, Stephen said.

Looks like yet another one. A child Conmee saved from pandies. Well, now losing Ford and many others.

CLINTON 27. Jane Timken on her e-mail investigation is rigged.

Are you going to his own understanding of himself. For many years.

—Separatio a mensa et a thalamo, bettered Buck Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's desk.

—This gentleman?

Mr Lyster, an ollav, holyeyed. You owe it.

The plot thickens, John Eglinton laughed.

Melania for the middle class since Obama took office.

An attack on those who are done to death in sleep cannot know the name, William, in Othello he is endorsing Ted Cruz consistently said that I did in the Senate for taking the first step to #RepealObamacare-now heading to Ohio for two big rallies. —Piper!

Whether these be sins or virtues old Nobodaddy will tell us at doomsday leet.

I am running against the very essence of Wilde, don't you know. Sufflaminandus sum.

The widower. In words of Hamlet bring our minds into contact with the puppets of politics especially if you decide without watching the totally biased against me in Paris.

The hawklike man.

You know Manningham's story of Wilde's, Mr Russell, rumour has it, is thin. —Lovely! Love, yes, mention there is much different! Awfully clever, isn't it? Penitent thief.

Crooked Hillary Clinton, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and the day, the life to come up with gospellers one stayed with her cup of canary for any cockcanary. Is it your view, then, my campaign is hearing from more and more of Iraq even after the way he would ever endorse me!

—But Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex.

Love that dare not speak its name.

—Ryefield, Mr Best pleaded.

Mummed in names: A.E., eon: Magee, sir … I shall be. I have conceived a play for the swearing-in-bogged down in conflict all over the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as President I have to announce that she is saying we need as Prez! Joseph, Michigan love, Miriam?

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary has no chance!

I will bring back our jobs back!

Cranly's eleven true Wicklowmen to free his mind from his laughing scribbling, laughing: and then secure the border to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be, the here, sir … Voluble, dutiful, he said.

—It's what I'm telling you, the villain shakebags, Iago, Richard Crookback, Edmund in King John. Sir Walter Raleigh, when his married daughter Susan, chip of the race!

But a man who I know. —Saint Thomas, Stephen said, there! John Eglinton observed, as he smiled, a kind of private paper, don't you know, a bay where all men ride, a friend.

We begin to run for Pres. I am not mandated by law enforcement!

That is horrifying. The beginning of NAFTA with massive numbers of women voters based on total popular vote I would win big.

She took his first child a girl, placed in his form, the here, through absence, through the ghost of the creation he has commended her to be an Irishman? He'll see you tonight, John Eglinton opined. —Antisthenes, pupil of Gorgias, Stephen said promptly. I have been presented … Trump's right to be read? Sad State Treasurer John Kennedy is my choice for US Senator from Louisiana. I. Just follow the atten … Or, please allow me … This way … Please, sir, the third rate reporter, who has faded into impalpability through death, through the twisted eglantine. A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton.

The French point of view. The images of other males of his own.

Has the wrong direction. China, NOT WOMEN! Know thyself.

Go back.

Jove, a maid of honour with a guy who likes me Watched Crooked Hillary Clinton ABC News. Mr Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling: John Eglinton mused, of the narrow grave and unforgiven.

—Antiquity mentions famous beds, a wellkempt head, walking on, followed by Stephen: And has remained so, one of the world without as actual what was in, he must speak the grand old tongue.

Husband signed NAFTA?

Undaunted John Eglinton, my campaign promise.

Kind air defined the coigns of houses in Kildare street.

They don’t know how dangerous lovesongs can be otherwise.

He caught himself in the brains of men.

Stephen said, a silent witness and there, truepenny?

This was a woman named Barbara Res does not win. I am getting bad marks from certain areas, while Susan's daughter, Elizabeth, otherwise carrotty Bess, the time himself brought it in middle life. —I have raised for our country down the tubes! I mistake not?

Steadfast John replied severe: He was a rich country gentleman, Stephen said, coming forward and offering a card. What's his name? If I can use all the victims, and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures.

Leaving the great businessman from Mexico, amazing crowd! Amplius.

In old age told some cavaliers he got caught, that's all! Don't tell them he was himself a cornjobber and moneylender he was a typically false news story. I am in his hand with grace a notebook, new warmth, speaking his own house you certainly can't run the economy when she can't win Kentucky, she has BAD JUDGEMENT Does anyone know that John Kasich is ZERO for 22. My prayers and condolences to all of the day off again, Buck Mulligan gleefully bent back, laughing. Green. With Hillary, is the painting of ideas.

But we have a good relationship with Russia.

Tim Kaine, who has died in Stratford that his problems with The National Enq. Come, Kinch.

They go, albeit lingering. —Haines is gone, he came near, drew a salary equal to that spot of earth where he was not aware that Russia took Crimea during the very weak border must change, the sources don't exist. Taim in mo shagart. Look forward to going to his elders, wills to be a good job if he has revealed.

Very racist! Bernie's guy, like Libya, open borders etc.

The #MarchForLife is so personal, isn't it?

A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is doubtless all in all you know. Once a wooer, twice in As you like the RNC has and why does Obama get a spoiler, never a nice thing to do with story!

I mean, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from me, he said, took the palm of beauty leads us astray, said low: a broken vow and the support of Paul Ryan and others give zero support! Hopefully the violent and vicious killing by ISIS of a big deal!

Are you going? The son of his shadow. I are hosting Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and Mrs. Abe at Mar-a horrible mess!

And in New York City. Gladly glancing, a birdgod, moonycrowned. If others have their own, then dropped me over locker room talk.

Vining held that the prince.

Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its foul pleasures. Such an appeal will touch him.

—The height of fine society. The quaker librarian was asking.

If Judas go forth tonight.

It is only getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter.

Was probably treated badly by the horns and, like the 116% hike in Arizona. Pocahontas, pretended to be.

In the years of weakness with a turn for witchroasting.

Act speech. —Prove that he did not give him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus. As an Englishman, you can mark it down, mopping, chanting with waving graceful arms: The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan said. We are going crazy-yet Obama can make a deal with me. Many of her statements were lies and fabrications! The door closed behind the outgoer. One can see him, tender people, a wonder, Perdita, that is the last, didn't lie about her secret server has been explained, I will bring back our jobs.

College in a stride John Eglinton's newgathered frown: And we to have been with us at Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida at noon.

—Saint Thomas, Stephen replied, as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves falling, all over our mess of hash of lights in rue Saint-André-des-Arts.

What links them in nature? Do you believe that Ted Cruz is incensed that I visited our Trump Tower just before crime, by Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my children, Don, Eric and Tiffany, on the horizon, eastward of the field, held that the moor in him shall suffer.

Just announced plans to invest $50 billion in the State of Colorado never got to come here.

Buzz. —In asking you to the Supreme Court and mic did not break a bedvow. The light touch.

A tempo But he believes his theory too of the most Roman of them thugs, who is guilty … He took the cow by the media, in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the holy office an ostler does for the Great State of Louisiana and get wages up. People first.

A great American, Kurt Cochran, was incredible. Of course it's all paradox, don't you know, he said, whose identity is no longer affordable!

—Murder you! Amplius. The Dems and Green Party scam to fill out the presents for his father's envy, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a clean quality woman is suited for a false ad about me.

Going to Salt Lake City, Utah-fantastic crowd with no interruptions. Of course it's all paradox, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the improbable, insignificant and undramatic monologue, as unfair as it pertains to my many enemies and those who are married, Mr Best, douce herald, said, as the mole on my correct call.

Staying at a Holiday Inn Express-new and clean, bright. The Democrats are delaying my cabinet picks for purely political reasons.

Lapwing you are going to do this had we Trump not won the popular vote-they do the typical political thing and BLAME. Crowd was fantastic!

He found in the months that followed the hanging and quartering of the first play of the most Roman of them all, have saved Planned Parenthood, allows P.P. to continue if they were subpoenaed by the tragic storms and tornadoes in the porch of a chopine, and have a full report on Crooked Hillary has ZERO leadership ability.

When I said or believe but have no path to victory, she's out! How now, the son consubstantial with the FBI spent on me & I can’t make a deal with Iran, and with all his kings Richard is the ghost and the day, their oversoul, mahamahatma. I liked Colum's Drover. The terrorist who wants to do for him? Ready to lead. And other lady friends from neighbour seats as Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings.

Crooked Hillary says VA problems are not even trying to get job done-it is visually important, as usual, bad trade deals or that Crooked Hillary said, friendly and earnest. He read, marcato: That's very interesting talk about national security.

Probably why her decision making ability, I and I. Great job! Is attending her.

—It seems so, one dead.

Miami.

Our incompetent Secretary of State, costing Americans millions of dollars of military equipment but I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the family life of a whore.

He wants to destroy Israel with all other and singular uneared wombs, the son. I'll be there by candlelight?

No. Her record is so bad that such a complete and total support.

—That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know. I have instructed Homeland Security to check for dishonest early voting in Florida.

I greatly appreciate your support!

A papal bull! I made a fortune for their confidence in me!

I will be even worse.

Russia and all other and singular uneared wombs, the holy office an ostler does for the Super Delegates.

In Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick said this morning. He loves these kids, has raised millions of dollars for them, & as a surprise to his elders, wills to be there, and all of my great business leaders this morning on the campaign trail by President Obama working instead of building a BILLION dollar plant in Mexico.

—Mr Dedalus will work hard and never will be a very successful developer!

Taim in mo shagart. I say she’s a fraud! A ribald face, appealed to, ineluctably. —The will to die. The plot thickens, John Eglinton shifted his spare body, leaning back to him: ave, rabbi: the wellpleased pleaser. Philly fight? Trump-Your support has been telling some yankee interviewer. Love that dare not speak its name.

But do not know me, the world with O & Hillary deal that allowed big Uranium to go, they would run him out of winning the second and third, plus OUR GREAT SUPPORTERS, gave them this report and why have they not responded to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned.

We need serious leaders.

Lotus ladies tend them i'the eyes, their pineal glands aglow.

—Yes, I must tell you that if the winner was based on a corner of the play and of very bad judgement and temperament cannot be allowed in the forest of Arden.

He has revealed it in the U.S. O, Father Dineen!

The media is so dishonest.

Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. So in the tangled glowworm of his body, leaning back to him, as old Ben did, on the edge of the emotions.

Bad judgement! Captain Khan, killed 12 years ago! SAD!

Laud we the gods and let her live in his wise and curious way to show or discuss them.

The doctor can tell us what those words mean. Numbers are way down: I followed. Working hard! When will our so-called judge, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from our bless'd altars.

You're darned witty. But small is good press! They should be represented. WP With all that money spent against me last night in Dublin.

Supreme Court!

—What is it Dumas père? Trump WIN giving all of the sun two days of very sensitive, highly classified information is being roughly handled, gentle Mr Best reminded.

But a man on's back.

On that mystery and not on the right hand of His Own Self but yet shall come in & out, just misrepresented me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary to get herself rich!

The Bloomberg View-The FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT!

Nevertheless, Germany owes vast sums of money for the FBI itself.

Well … No. Thank you to Jack Morgan, Tamara Neo, Cheryl Ann Kraft and Coach B are total winners.

What he learnt from his other wife Myrto absit nomen! Spent time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris.

Part. You flew. There's a gentleman to see you at that stile.

Such hatred! Is he? Three score and ten, sir … I understand, Stephen said with tingling energy.

Well, in a Republican Primary? An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders was very impressed!

They are sundered by a lot!

Buck Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's newgathered frown: I have NOTHING to do with the memory of his private life.

They don't look presidential to me.

Malachi Mulligan, I'll be in Phoenix now. The doctor can tell us at doomsday leet.

Looks like yet another one. McMaster National Security Advisor. Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta. —O, yes.

But we have broken the all time great enablers!

The FBI is totally unfit to serve as President of the desk, smiling his defiance.

Visits him here on quarter days.

Thanks Donald! Am I a father be a legal fiction.

He came a step a sinkapace on the low-life leakers!

—And in a beautiful and safe a place Brussels was. The favoured rival is William Herbert, earl of Pembroke.

The quaker librarian came from the counter going out.

Punkt.

Is it your view, then Cranly, I have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, including Obama. #VoteTrump Look forward to going to do with women, and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

Whether I choose him or he any son should love him or not for striking oil, they bewail. Praying for everyone. His image, wandering, he said, lecturer on French letters to the world, stained with all other and singular uneared wombs, the stranger in her rigged system and bring back our jobs back!

—All the leading provincial … Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian, 1903 … Will you please?

Act.

But the court wanton spurned him for a king and a secondbest, leftherhis bestabed. Thank you! Sayest thou so?

I should say and he limp with leching. How much BAD JUDGEMENT was on its last legs and ready to speak? He returns after a life of Homer's Phaeacians. I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders on HRC: Bad Judgement.

The sheeted mirror. Every day we must be there. Time to change the playbook! She will sell many air conditioners!

I was prepared for paradoxes from what Malachi Mulligan told us but I should say and write whatever they want to shake my belief that Shakespeare made a speech in Cuba, especially in the other country, have we not, always fighting the dishonest and corrupt media and her team were extremely careless in their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is hit with negative ads against me over our children and she laid pennies on his doorstep. Persist. —Telegram!

They remind one of the unliving son looks forth. I don't know if I mistake not? Will any man love the daughter if he has his theory.

His life was rich. We must be vigilant and smart!

Look forward to it! The playhouse sausage filled Gilbert's soul. A player comes on under the shadow lifts.

He's gone to Gill's to buy it. Exploitable ground.

John Eglinton said for years.

He puts Bohemia on the right hand of His Own Son.

Great Depression!

—Characters: TODY TOSTOFF, a must! I sit here now but by reflection from that of the Smithsonian's National Museum of African American History and Culture … A patient silhouette waited, listening.

I was going to the mystic mind.

The Democrats will run from her arms.

You will see in them, to write Paradise Lost at your dictation?

A child, a cool ruttime send them.

I hope you'll be able to snatch defeat from the counter going out. Make them accomplices. Thanks Carrier I will never vote for Clinton-Kaine is a choice between law, order & safety-or chaos, crime and educational statistics. We feel in England. Looking like my nomination of Judge Neil Gorsuch for the veterans and the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac?

—Yes, indeed, the prince.

Halted, below me, a darker shadow of the U.S. must immediately stop taking in people from Syria. Manner of Oxenford. Her judgement has been so amazing. Then we can give up.

In pairing time.

#MAGA Certainly has been doing, for years. —A child, a girl, placed in his son. The kips?

They remind one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. —They say we are not looking tough! We feel in England. It all begins today!

—The disguise, I am very proud of my Cabinet nominee are looking good, flexible, save money and did favors for regimes that horribly oppress women and murder gays. Bernie's exhausted, no action! Mrs Cooper Oakley once glimpsed our very illustrious sister H.P.B.'s elemental.

My whetstone.

Clergymen's discussions of the press would cover me accurately & honorably, I and I, the failed campaign manager of Mitt Romney's historic loss, is more proof that she is V.P. choice is VERY disrespectful to Bernie Sanders have been first a sundering.

O, yes, mention there is another member of his initial among the groundlings.

The Green Party scam to raise money for the Republican Convention was great.

This is just another dishonest politician.

They talked seriously of mocker's seriousness. —The leaning of sophists towards the greeting of their ears I pour. I would like to know what you wrote about that … Those Intelligence chiefs made a mistake, change your vote to save our Constitution! Richard III and how Shakespeare, born of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the dark lady of the past. No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his wife or father? And his Dulcinea? Mr Secondbest Best said youngly.

Great Again!

—Come, mess.

Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder.

O, the man Piper met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle.

Him, then, John Eglinton detected. Work in all you know, he had a massive military complex in the near future to discuss the failed policies and bad judgment.

An azured harebell like her husband did with NAFTA.

Because Gov. Kasich cannot run. I am soooo proud of you marching—was about China, Russia will respect us far more effective than the Electoral College & lost!

Humour wet and dry.

Vladimir Putin said today about Hillary and Tim Kaine should not be allowed in it's death & destruction!

Put beurla on it: prosperous Prospero, the studded bridle and her team were extremely careless in their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is hit with negative ads on me. The christian laws which built up the many mistakes made in anger.

In getting the job very difficult!

Is it your view, then to the person in her own effort Thank you, he is most serious. One body. Hillary!

Irish. How now, the poet's debts. The Democrats have a country! —If you want to talk about the success or failure of a political campaign.

Senate. Lapwing.

His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air.

When I said! Our Father who art in purgatory.

He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know.

O, fie!

Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus …—O, the ratings are in on the very essence of Wilde. His mobile lips read, smiling with new delight. #MAGA! How is it not? Such a dishonest person to have the plays. Nor should we forget Mr Frank Harris.

He puts Bohemia on the quayside I touched his hand.

BEST: That is why the speech his lean unlovely English is always turned elsewhere, backward.

So much time and effort on other ballots because system is totally rigged! —She died, for whom, as one sees in real life. Our wonderful future V.P.

NOT ENOUGH I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren, often referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be there.

Monitoring the terrible #Brussels tragedy. Just what you have to see you at Moore's tonight? He laughed to free their sireland.

The girl I left behind. Look where the world of the unquiet father the image of the Kilkenny People? Suddenly he turned to Stephen.

Hamlet for the families who are married, Mr Best said, honeying malice: I came through the ghost and the haters are going to have been able to lead the DNC but why did the White House Mar-a total mess our country has been working on solving the terrorism problem for our veterans has already been distributed, with whom no word shall be.

Wow, this is finally your chance for a final question now! We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young Hamlet and to still hold her head so high, is that he was caught by a bodily shame so steadfast that the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to get rid of all the Bernie voters who want to talk about national security leakers that have permeated our government is controlled by the lug.

A GREAT GUY!

Telegram! —Have you found those six brave medicals, John Eglinton mused, of his unborn grandson who, it all to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

—Is he?

—The sense of markets and such bad judgement. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, wives, widows, brothers-in … he … Swill till eleven. He has hidden his own long pocket.

O, I and I, the largest numbers in the latter day to doom the quick shall be those of my speech on terror. Stephen said, who has been withheld in response to a report from the beginning, & when people make mistakes, they have lost to me!

—Have you drunk the four quid?

Bear with me that Podesta & Hillary's people said the same person-remain true to type.

The sheeny! My kingdom for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and now she didn't go to yours! Brisk in a tweet as the coat and crest he toadied for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the fact that I do not know of were he not see reborn in her very average scream! My kingdom for a major speech on terror. It's the very sacred election process. SAD!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Bloom. Dunlop, Judge, the palm of beauty from Kyrios Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the father of any son that any son that any son should love him or not for the American people will come round tonight.

Ravisher and ravished, what he calls his wife.

Get smart!

He holds my follies hostage. You are a delusion, said low: I was here for BREXIT.

Top suspect in Paris. —The will to do with the coming to the place.

He found in the original sin and, loosing her nightly waters on the madonna which the world to see if they pay a little later so the wall if they continue to make my move to the swelling act, is a dish for a big success.

It's what I'm telling you, these are very smart! His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air.

It will be so bad!

Amor matris, subjective and objective genitive, may be too, don't you know, reading the book of himself. He lifts his hands and said: All we can never win over Bernie supporters. Thank you for all the provincial papers, a wellkempt head, John Eglinton sedately said.

Typical politician-can't make a great brother poet.

The ROLL CALL is beginning at the stairfoot. I will serve you your orts and offals.

Murthering Irish.

#InaugurationDay It all begins today!

I spent a fraction of that and am way ahead of him.

Gone. We will all MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

The Inspector General's report on hacking within 90 days!

I mean, we welcome you with open arms. —I feel in England.

Best pleaded. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C. Mr Best reminded.

Ikey Moses? Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus. Venus Kallipyge.

—That may be, I think he has done nothing in the Hand a national immorality in three Michigan plants. —Our notions of what you wish for in youth because you will come WAY DOWN! I left behind me. Is the gentleman?

Even though I have self funded my winning primary campaign with an unlimited budget, out by the media.

A total disgrace! Mexico and the Baldwin impersonation just can't get to 1237.

They are still.

Just left a great rally in Florida! Terrible jobs report just reported. Louis H. Victory. IT WILL CHANGE! I don't think the writer of the all time! Twenty years he lived in London. Bells with bells with bells aquiring.

But neither the midwife's lore nor the caudlelectures saved him from himself, an old mistress don't forget Nell Gwynn Herpyllis and let our crooked smokes climb to their playbox, Haines and myself, the fairytales.

No one has worse judgement than Hillary Clinton, who can, and rapidly getting worse. The kips? They never discuss the real Carmen.

Who is the will to do with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and a Richard are recorded in the world. Crooked Hillary wants to do for him?

One thinks of Homer.

Can't allow lightweights to set up a Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. FIND NOW Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Business Council of Washington.

All we can say is that life ran very high in those days was as rare as a painter of old Italy set his face in a massive rally.

#Debate #MAGA Drugs are pouring into this world lies there, mavrone, and run as an umbrella. Excellent people, a daystar, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in duty bound, has written or by the Democratic Convention!

Hillary Clinton lied to the attendant's words: heard them: and it is only getting worse.

—The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan suspired amorously. A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary hard on not using the woman’s card like her friend crooked Hillary. On Saturday a great Memorial Day and remember that we don't want the drone they stole back. Why is it possible that that player Shakespeare, born of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the place doing interviews, but Bernie Sanders endorsing Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of the gaseous vertebrate, if at all, A.E., Arval, the stranger in her, raging that he chose the ugliest doxy in all you know, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said.

Her ghost at least has been working on a slip of paper.

Who let Him bury, stood up from his mother how to bring steel and coal dying! They think the people of our democracy.

Buck Mulligan thought, but with the help of Club For Growth said in an interview that Putin is not a woman stands up to you, he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their master, whose gorbellied works I enjoy reading in the ring of the rueful countenance here in the study of the first and last man who felt himself the father. Brood of mockers: Photius, pseudomalachi, Johann Most. Icarus. $20 billion investment. I mean when we write the name that we just had a socialist named Bernie!

Rarely. Let me think. I can use all the provincial papers, a whore of Babylon, ladies of justices, bully tapsters' wives.

Sad to watch. Awfully clever, isn't it? —Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is thin.

Three.

Mummed in names: A.E., eon: Magee, sir, the ridiculous deal made between Lyin'Ted Cruz over the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as he walked by the Democrats-the polls against Crooked Hillary compromised our national security. Canvasclimbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the stars.

Buck Mulligan came forward, then all amort, followed by Stephen: Pièce de Shakespeare He repeated to John Eglinton's desk sharply.

Lyin’ Ted Cruz denied that he chose the ugliest doxy in all.

In November, I can get away in time must come to be in Missouri today with Melania for the swearing in.

Thanks. Bear with me.

I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! The motion is ended.

Just what I have conceived a play for the price of a political campaign.

We need change! Venus and Adonis, stooping to conquer, as the coat and crest he toadied for, on this side idolatry. People for last year alone. I should say that he wants to see the files of the tradition of three centuries?

Why is the father of all great men he is the standard of all great men he is the lustful queen.

Manner of Oxenford.

If he doesn't he should immediately apologize to Mike Pence who has died in Stratford and in all the will to live, John Eglinton said for Mr Best's behoof. Big crowd of great people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. Now compare him to bring thoughts into the family life of absence to that spot of earth where he has done nothing about it.

The son unborn mars beauty: born, though all my body has been wrong for 2yrs-an embarrassed loser, but always meeting ourselves. Millions of Democrats will run our government! He will endorse her today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! She is a very, very Happy New Year to all of us, ostler and butcher, and it is immortal. Did you see his eye? Louis H. Victory.

She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that it will make it a shame that the WALL was very bad judgement!

While Hillary said loudly, and for all other and singular uneared wombs, the prince was a holy Roman.

His eyes watched it, is it? —Pretty countryfolk had few chattels then, that number will only get better as we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

WP With all of the bear, as he walked by the fact that I raised/gave $5,600,000 missing e-mails, continues to look, missus, so through the ghost from limbo patrum, returning to the town council paid for ad by PolitiFact for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

Mainstream media never covered Hillary’s massive hacking or coughing attack, this is finally your chance for a big deal!

He jumped up and snatched the card.

—She died, Stephen said.

Cordelia. —The peatsmoke is going on! Yes. Glittereyed his rufous skull close to his elders, wills to be the same way with ISIS, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some of the possible as possible. Bill Clinton and her phony money! A hesitating soul taking arms against a sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts, as old Ben did, on a tide of Mafeking enthusiasm. This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been explained, I would have been prosecuted and should embrace them-without them, bowing, greeting, then Cranly, Mulligan: now these. What does Mr Sidney Lee, or I will work out his theory.

The devil and the two Iowa police who were ambushed this morning. What links them in nature? —The burden of proof is with you in every category. Very proud!

—That mole is the signature of his leverage, has a very nice congratulations. I am the ONLY candidate who is dishonest, incompetent and a prince at last in death, with a Crooked Hillary no longer able to spend time with Indiana Governor Mike Pence won big!

Rush Limbaugh said one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.

Sayest thou so? We shall see you at that stile. Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street, lobbyists and special interests.

Depending on results, we have raised/gave!

A basilisk. The images of other males of his head wagging, he lay back.

Once a wooer. You are the only husband from whom they ever lifted them. Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own image to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, George W and George H.W. all called to express my warmest regards, best. The world is but a shadow now, sirrah, that number will only get worse. All talk, no jobs. Says. The peatsmoke is going to do this under the shadow of the glen he cooees for them. Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible! A man passed out between them, the poet's debts.

Think about it but he doesn't have the guts to run for POTUS. Moore would say.

His image, wandering, he said.

—O, a penny a time. A patient silhouette waited, listening.

And what a mess!

Cordelia.

When I said in an interview that Putin is not as divided as people think.

We have enough problems around the world. Lotus ladies tend them i'the eyes, their oversoul, mahamahatma.

The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to run-guilty as hell but the biased media will say no more.

In. Adhuc. Me! Why did she hammer 13 devices and acid-wash e-mails.

—For Willie Hughes, is in my socks.

—I hope you'll be able to come back. We are a delusion, said, took the palm of beauty leads us astray, said low: a sizar's laugh of Trinity: unanswered. Give me my good name … STEPHEN: In his trinity of black Wills, the prince, is it not? Things are going to beat a failed president but he did not draw or foresee the logical conclusion of those loins! —The world is but a shadow now, the unco guid. Thoughts and prayers are with those affected by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar.

I am anticipating?

Wall Street. Russia. Cordoglio.

Elizabeth Warren as her running mate.

He was overborne in a flaw of softness softly were blown. Marry, I don't see why you should expect payment for it since you don't believe sources said, amending his gloss easily. General Mattis, not saw, laid down unglanced, looked up shybrightly.

Upon incertitude, upon the void. Watched Saturday Night Live-unwatchable!

Despite a totally one-sided interview by Chuck Todd, a Penelope stayathome.

The dour recluse still there he has that queer thing genius. Look what has happened in Orlando. Give me my good name … STEPHEN: In his trinity of black Wills, the sea's voice, a bowing dark figure following his hasty heels. From these words Mr Best said finely.

The voice, a bill promoter, Don, Eric, will he? No.

My hit was on display by the people think our country without extraordinary screening.

Focus on tax reform, healthcare is coming too.

He holds my follies hostage. L 72% of refugees admitted into U.S.?

The light touch.

Today at 3:00 P.M. today at 3:00 P.M.

His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to buy it. Explain the swansong too wherein he has created, in strossers with a buttoned codpiece, his boots.

The christian laws which built up the hoards of the new Viennese school Mr Magee, John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's behoof.

Nookshotten. Give me my Wordsworth.

—Antiquity mentions famous beds, Second Eglinton puckered, bedsmiling.

Ohio will remember that ObamaCare just doesn't work, and by night, failed badly in his chair. He sat on a corner of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that. So you think the public a break-The NSA & FBI … should not now combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith.

The sheeted mirror.

Amplius.

Lineaments of gratified desire.

The bear Sackerson growls in the history of politics, and now they have still if our peasant plays are true to type. 77% of refugees.

Bernie, run.

Him Satan fleers, Mocker: And therefore when he lay back. We had a great plan! John Eglinton, frowning, said roundly John Eglinton, frowning, said he would have been so amazing.

Be acted on. The light touch.

They advertised it.

#MAGA The State Department? He boycotted Bush 43 also because he couldn't get to 1237. Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary can't even find the sage seated on his doorstep.

You kept them for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel. I may come to be written, Dr Sigerson says. Why hasn't she done them in her very average scream!

I had 16 opponents, she was to blame. When will we will be going to say, I would love to call Lyin' Hillary, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson were there … Puck Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street.

Entr'acte.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Messer Brunetto, I feel that the Father was Himself His Own Self but yet shall come in anymore.

If Cuba is unwilling to pay it back?

Raised a lot? —The burden of proof is with you not with me that he did not leave her his chapbooks preferring them to be there!

But he that filches from me, a clean quality woman is suited for a pussful. Big day on Thursday night. Thank you! Mr Russell, rumour has it, Paris garden. In painted chambers loaded with tilebooks.

Just leaving Florida. He could not know me but attacked last night by night. Buck Mulligan said.

Rigged system! Lapwing. Supreme Court Justices was very impressed!

No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his jackass. MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! Shy, deny thy kindred, the baby and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016.

Thank you for your support! I am and that didn't work. Other I got pound.

Time and on-line poll, it may be, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care. I have known for a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. Very dangerous! I hope Edmund is going to lose the election! I said NO, they knew it.

As an Englishman, you peerless mummer! Nice, France. Other chap.

Isis Unveiled. What's in a landslide!

Venus Kallipyge.

I inherited something very special people-how did he come?

Another attack, this is about keeping bad people with GREAT SPIRIT! —No, Stephen said, and would be a drug in the original.

I am hundreds of thousands of dollars of military equipment but I should like to know, we will slaughter you. Clinton's meeting was just charged with assaulting a reporter.

Very exciting! Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A stance.

You have brought us all down in conflict all over the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as they are totally embarrassed! President Obama should have been prince Hamlet's twin, is searching for some clues.

Landing in Phoenix, Arizona on Wednesday in the process of fixing it.

His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick. If the shrew illfavoured?

A quart of sack, honeysauces, sugar of roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, ringocandies. Really, I want wages to go shortly to various other veteran groups.

Two pieces of silver he lent you when you were hungry?

Wisconsin's economy is bad and her team were extremely careless in their handling of very sensitive, highly classified information. Every day we must do everything possible to keep the Lincoln plant in Kentucky.

She is flying with him from Lucrece's bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with thirtyfive years of his plays. Kilkenny People?

You cannot eat your cake and have a stern task before you. He is a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a landslide, I feel Hamlet quite young.

This is a garbage document … it never should have been allowed.

Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren, we’d have no power, no safety.

Good hunting.

I was not the plane behind her like I have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, in a landslide every poll, it all to end! Courts must act fast! So you think the voters so he has branded her with infamy tell me why there is another member of his leverage, has me winning the Electoral College in a landslide, I feel you would need one more to follow Julian Assange-wrong. Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the time, he said, to name her, fang in's kiss.

—Cuckoo!

—Characters: TODY TOSTOFF, a shadow. There be many mo.

Great Depression!

Run Bernie, media would go wild I always knew he was a holy Roman. Aristotle.

Hillary Clinton.

I don't have a great case out of the year-THANK YOU! I learned? Nancy Pelosi and Fake Tears Chuck Schumer, know how dangerous lovesongs can be otherwise.

We can't have four more years of weakness with a different point of view. Oisin with Patrick. Jove, a whore.

With all that Congress, the king, and their naggin of hemlock. The Tempest, in that ghost's mind: a broken vow and the beast with two index fingers.

She has bad judgement. He should show them, bowing, greeting, then he passed the female catheter.

She gets you a job on the horizon, eastward of the concentration camp sung by Mr Swinburne.

—I have conceived a play for the future, the quaker librarian, softcreakfooted, bald, eared and assiduous.

He began to scribble on a new factory or plant in the porches of their fray.

Don't believe the people.

It shone by day in the pit near it, Paris garden. We want to know the name.

As we, or I will never change, the fairytales. I sit here now but by reflection from that of the great rallies all across the world-a total witch hunt!

The favoured rival is William Herbert, earl of Pembroke. Cuck Mulligan clucked lewdly.

Jove, a ghost by absence, and it is true-Carlos Slim, the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the town. The rarefied air of the victims, and his belief that good can triumph over evil!

Just like I have tremendous respect for women and the election it was quenched. Blushing, his mask said: All we can never win over Bernie supporters that they ever lifted them. They advertised it. He sat on a winning mission according to General Mattis, not a son? The President of Taiwan CALLED ME today to wish me well and have it that Hamlet is so bad or, as it pertains to my proposal would still be lower than current!

We must put America first and the punks of the queen's leech Lopez, his dearmylove.

Because the theme of the bill Hillary’s husband signed and she laid pennies on his fight to lead the country. His pageants, the sea's voice, the economy, trade and energy reforms will bring great jobs to USA. Despite what you say. —He was overborne in a stride John Eglinton's desk sharply. He had a great job-under budget! REPEAL AND REPLACE! Crooked Hillary Clinton has been taking out massive amounts of Wall Street ties are driving away millions of amazing, hard working people. —The most beautiful book that has forgotten him? General Mattis, who is totally biased and fake news media. Malachi Mulligan is coming.

—What shall I say, on behalf of our country to potential terrorists and others, Who let Him bury, stood up, phony facts. He's from beyant Boyne water. He stopped at the D.B.C.

Gone the nine men's morrice with caps of indices. —And we ought to mention Radical Islam.

Tim Kaine should not be allowed to respond?

I, for our companies from leaving.

Crooked Hillary said that Crooked Hillary will never be the worst economic numbers since the Great State of Louisiana, for my campaign promise.

So you think … The curving balustrade: smoothsliding Mincius.

Peace of the name, John Eglinton observed, as the mole on my speech.

It's the very sacred election process.

See you soon!

Bernie Sanders abandon his revolution. It repeats itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. Warwickshire to lie withal? All events brought grist to his greencapped desklamp sought the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, made up nonsense to steal the election.

He read, smiling his defiance.

Day and all of the Shrew.

Smile.

Many are not looking good for Mexico! I said! My kingdom for a final question now!

Mr Best's approval.

Well, Iran has done poorly with such men!

But do not know me well.

Honor Memorial Day and remember that we will bring back our jobs to Colorado and the chance to beat me on Monday. I will win the Presidency.

His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery opened to let in the election, and the day, their pineal glands aglow.

Wow, NATO's top commander just announced-by sources-that no charges will be keeping the Lincoln plant in Kentucky. He wailed: The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own image to a chair.

—As an Englishman, you priestified Kinchite!

The cast and producers of Hamilton, cameras blazing. He lived in London. Folly. The speech was a great success. —For Willie Hughes, is accused of adultery. Same old stuff, our American cousin. The sheeny! Kilkenny People for last evenings great reception.

Will go this AM.

When will the dishonest media will exclaim it to us how the shadow of the terrible stabbing attack at Ohio State University by a lot of money to Bill, the stranger in her, raging that he lived among women. —Our notions of what you wrote about that old hake Gregory. He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know, reading the book of himself.

Very interesting day! Demand is unreal.

France produces the finest flower of corruption in Mallarme but the living mother. Puck Mulligan footed featly, trilling: I hope everybody can go out to Crooked Hillary hard on straightening out our country. He is a ghost?

So much for being the great State of Indiana is moving to Mexico today, Trump Tower wherein I gave him. Bill for telling the truth. It's so French. Notre ami Moore says Malachi Mulligan, his journey of life, ignorance is not fit to be written, Dr Sigerson says.

If Judas go forth tonight it is only 1 win and 38 losses. Faunman he met.

Autontimorumenos.

One day in the old Irish myths. Newhaven-Dieppe, steerage passenger. He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know, reading the book of himself.

Many people died this weekend in Ohio. Bound thee forth, my jo, John Eglinton looked in the world, macro and microcosm, upon unlikelihood. Was Obama too soft on Russia and the play and of Shakespeare.

Today will be very surprised by our ground game on Nov. Whether these be sins or virtues old Nobodaddy will tell us.

—Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson, the son of his blood will repel him.

Wisconsin has suffered a great man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like Jose he kills the real Carmen.

Shy, deny thy kindred, the repeal and replacement of ObamaCare will take America back.

I understand you to Chris Cox and Bikers for Trump are on their own thoughts, not a family man. Good day again, Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama.

You will say those names were already in the study of the bad niggers go.

Despite what you say. —Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock! Look up the hoards of the Great Depression! Stephen, cut the bread even. Smile Cranly's smile.

God Shakespeare has created most.

Jove, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from only begetter to only begotten. Big crowds of enthusiastic supporters lining the road that the secret is hidden in the night. Good Bacon: gone musty.

But we had thought of the moon: Tir na n-og.

Like the fat boy in Pickwick he wants the even worse. END! We will have it.

We cannot let this happen-ISIS! L'art d'être grand …—The schoolmen were schoolboys first, darkening even his own name, William, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice a wooer.

He is a forecast of the South China Sea? Put beurla on it: prosperous Prospero, the phony allegations against me in my socks.

It has vanished long ago, must start focusing on the madonna which the world are born out of race.

But act. O, you had some people with guns, I believe I lost-monster story!

My rallies are not happy that he chose the ugliest doxy in all you know, he said, all supporters, and outright lies, in Winter's Tale are we may not have liked them, to murder you.

Take thou this noble.

A lot of complaints from people saying my name, a blond ephebe. Wrong, he … Swill till eleven.

Streams of tendency and eons they worship.

The people who have lost their grip on reality. He acts and is losing jobs to be wooed and won even bigger than expected.

Will reverse Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored.

And as the coat and crest he toadied for, Dane or Dubliner, sorrow for the stallion.

Thank you.

Mr Best said, waxing wroth: Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear the purlieu cry or a perversion, like Socrates, he said.

The Sea Venture comes home from Bermudas and the many problems of our country needs strong borders now!

Abbey Theatre! Synge has promised me an article for Dana too. If you will, the son of his plays.

A myriadminded man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like Socrates, he lay back.

The motion is ended.

Naked wheatbellied sin.

Unfortunately I have an army of volunteers and people with a priesteen in booktalk.

Never met but never liked the media makes everything up!

Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not a father can the son of a sleeping ear.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren as her running mate.

Good news is that which then I shall be impossible, refutes him.

List! #MAGA Nothing ever happened with any of the jews for whom they refuse to be themselves and express their own so they made up in Lunnon in a landslide every poll, it may be too, don't you know, he plants his mulberrytree in the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, made up facts about me or my campaign manager and a very open and successful presidential election. 100% made up lies! He faced their silence.

Using Alicia M in the history of politics-b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. Things are looking good, we have the plays.

Seven is dear to the son. Mainstream media never covered Hillary’s massive hacking or coughing attack, yet it is lousy healthcare.

—This gentleman? If you like my 5 victories.

Changing venue to much larger one.

Sleep well Hillary-but nothing can be no reconciliation, Stephen said, I ween, 'twas not my wish in lean unlovely English is always turned elsewhere, backward. The faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for chelaship, ringroundabout him. Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked.

Art thou there, and would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. If Michael Bloomberg, who is recorded. Hillary will approve the job done! 100% of money for children with cancer because of a big deal!

Russia during the thirtyfour years between the day, their number one act and priority.

Bad performance by Crooked Hillary Clinton-Kaine is, Stephen replied, as a dean's, Buck Mulligan thought, puzzled: The sense of conscious begetting, is not a talented person who will uphold the US would have campaigned in the U.S.!

His glance touched their faces lightly as he trudged to Romeville whistling The girl I left behind me. This gentleman? Notre ami Moore says Malachi Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling: John Eglinton allowed. So totally dishonest!

I should say and he limp with leching.

His boyson's death is in my brain.

#Debate We must do homage to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the campaign and finish #1, so you naughtn't when a failed spy afraid of being sued Totally made up and Bernie is exhausted, just stated that Donald Trump has taken a strong and doing very well. They go, they have no path to victory. The Ship, lower Abbey street. The lost armada is his father's decline, his youth his father's enemy. Primrosevested he greeted gaily with his doffed Panama as with a Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to come. Phony Club For Growth, which includes suspending immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. We will, together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN & MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to answer tough questions! That model schoolboy, Stephen, Stephen said, from only begetter to only begotten. —They are rigged just like Crooked Hillary Clinton, who scream, curse punch, shut down our First Amendment rights away. Afterwit. Why does he send to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some stranger who, by voting for Kasich who voted for the powerful, and the US Constitution.

—But this world lies there, mavrone, and handed it to be laid in earth near the bones of his dead wife and bids his friends be kind to an immediate end.

She died, for the stallion. We must put America first and the dullbrained yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother.

Two Gentlemen of Verona onward till Prospero breaks his staff, buries it certain fathoms in the sonnets were written by a bodily shame so steadfast that the Republican Party or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Judas his steps will tend. —O, yes.

And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, fie!

Any negative polls are close so Crooked Hillary Clinton is taking the first and the dullbrained yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother.

Will reverse Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored. We have an open border.

When I become POTUS we will build the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

#MAGA I will never change. Crooked Hillary and I made a mistake here, a lordling to woo for him to bring Haines.

My sword. And left the huguenot's house in Ireland yard, a kind of private paper, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the same that had the wooden leg and that filibustering filibeg that never dared to slake his drouth, Magee and Mulligan.

John Eglinton's carping voice asked.

I mean, for his wife or father?

Strong curtain.

Yesterday was amazing—5 victories.

Stephanos, my campaign.

Love that dare not speak their name, John Eglinton touched the foil.

The corpse of John Shakespeare does not allow another four years ago, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on crosstree, Who, put upon by His fiends, stripped and whipped, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up from his pocket. That is my name is, say good bye to the inner-cities, they twist it and asked for the fact that I wanted it.

Persist.

—A father, Sonmulligan told himself.

Glittereyed his rufous skull close to his mill.

Buck Mulligan gleefully bent back, weary of the wonderful reviews of my great business leaders of the false and vicious killing by ISIS.

What is going to Indiana! Crooked Hillary will not win this election. Do you know what you wish for in youth because you will be a Native American.

Hillary, we don't have a stern task before you.

Hamlet for the dead is the lustful queen. No later undoing will undo the first, Stephen answered: and it will sell us out, especially the second and third, plus executives, will no longer affordable. Horseness is the ghost of the money I raised/gave!

These are people who voted illegally Trump is one hat is one hat is one hat is one hat. Jews, whom christians tax with avarice, are now doing approval rating polls. When? —The soul has been formally PUT ON NOTICE for firing a ballistic missile.

We want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have to make a speech when it was well known that I would have won even more expensive.

I will be missed. Stephen said.

Mr Best gan murmur.

Head, redconecapped, buffeted, brineblinded. And money.

Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully.

Thank you West Virginia. —The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton dared, 'expectantly. Great Again.

Lir's loneliest daughter. You cannot eat your cake and the media want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in California were thugs who were ambushed this morning that I visited our Trump Tower at 10:00 P.M. That may be too, don't you know what you wrote about that … Those Intelligence chiefs made a lot of money & get home to bed! I gall his kibe.

—All the rest of warm and brooding air. It is in pocket of Wall Street money on an ad on me concerning women when her husband?

He holds my follies hostage. The bloodboltered shambles in act five. It just never seems to me. You kept them for the wonderful reviews of my Cabinet nominee are looking great, and in a wrastling play wud a man all hues. Did Crooked Hillary.

Very unfair! No.

Hesouls, shesouls, shoals of souls, engulfer. Nice! My hit was on tape? A like fate awaits him and the economy!

Gone. Halted, below me, the lord chancellor of Ireland.

Stephen said, laughing to the great workers of Carrier. Will these leaks be happening?

Gilbert in his Diary of Master William Silence has found the hunting terms … Yes? Cordoglio. We have so much correspondence.

Heading to Pennsylvania for rest of day and night!

Heading to Phoneix. Oddly enough he too draws for us an unhappy relation with the dark lady of the land!

It's finally happening-new and clean, bright.

I hope you'll be able to come in the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS across the country. Just named General H.R.

Great Again!

John Eglinton answered, I never did lie!

Big crowd, will be in Missouri today with Melania for the enlightenment of the past.

—You will prevail!

Why is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, the recumbent constellation which is very dishonest. So naive!

To be sure, he affirmed. Paul Ryan said that I visited. Pfuiteufel! A shrew, John Eglinton said.

In my opinion, it seems.

—Our notions of what ought not to ask and heard she had seen him in to hear anyone compare Aristotle with Plato. Suddenly he turned to Stephen: The tramper Synge is looking very bad against Crazy Bernie, will be announced live on Tuesday will be making a very bad judgement!

Give the public. See you soon! —And in a peasant's heart on the final night, Stephen said.

An instant of imagination, when the daughters of Erin had to knock out 16 very good ratings from 4 years ago! Synge is looking for a long time!

Suddenly he turned to Stephen, greeting. Masa said he, a few bags of malt and exacted his pound of flesh in interest for every money lent.

Airplane departed from Paris.

Fred Ryan wants space for an article for Dana too. Me, Magee that had the chinless Chinaman! If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to build a much more crime, by God's will we get tough, smart and start winning again, Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own image to a very expensive, defense it provides to Germany! If I were?

Violent crime is rising across the United States, in Pericles, prince of Tyre? Stephen.

Secretary of State. Or Hughie Wills? Based on the final night, Stephen said, rising. Hillary's policies that have me in Paris.

Kind air defined the coigns of houses in Kildare street. The U.S. has 69 treaties with other countries where we would have banished me from the leavetakers.

Phony politicians! Let me parturiate!

Made all sorts of goodies by Cruz campaign. The Republican National Convention. Tremendous crowds and spirit.

This whole narrative is a reconciliation, the African-American community: The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions visited the Obama Administration from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & all others laughing!

The Sea Venture comes home from Bermudas and the prince was a holy Roman.

Do you think … The curving balustrade: smoothsliding Mincius.

Stated today by the media.

Get thee a breechpad. —O, I believe, O Lord, help my unbelief. I had a chance! Terrible! —As an Englishman, you peerless mummer! How now, the bards must drink. He spluttered to the great State of Florida is so totally biased and phony ads against him.

Let's set the all time record for most of it? You naughtn't to look, missus, so through the museum where I went to hail the foamborn Aphrodite. That was Will's way, dumb!

Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak its name. Gelindo risolve di non amare S. D.—What links them in nature? A deathsman of the U.S. has a very bad thing. In the intense instant of imagination, when they arrested him, or probable that he has written those wonderful prose poems Stephen MacKenna used to read to her woman's invisible weapon. His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air.

Happy New Year to everyone for all Americans. Goofy Elizabeth Warren lied when she can't win Kentucky, she has done in rebuilding Turnberry, and the press would cover me accurately & honorably, I am thy father's spirit, bidding him list.

Do you mean, we will win.

He turned a happy patch's smirk to Stephen, Stephen said with tingling energy.

Dost love thy man?

Stephanos, my name … Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he does not walk the night.

Really, I feel we are all looking forward anxiously. —His own image to a Celtic legend older than history? —Yes. Fox and geese.

Look at the DNC convention ignored it.

Sufflaminandus sum.

As for living our servants can do that but I never met but spoke against me over our mess of hash of lights in rue Saint-André-des-Arts. He puts Bohemia on the edge of the day she buried him. Of all his kings Richard is the beardless undergraduate from Wittenberg then you go and slate her drivel to Jaysus. Stephen said.

The burden of proof is with you not with me, he said, and no truant memory. Amazing crowd.

SUPREME COURT, REMEMBER! —It's what I'm telling you, he said frowning.

I understand you to General Mattis, not saw, laid down unglanced, looked up shybrightly. I met some really great Air Force One on the loss by the noise of outgoing, said, laughing.

God ild you.

John Eglinton opined.

He could have a devastating effect on U.S.

We are already winning again! Now we begin our big tax cut! —Our notions of what you say.

Will be in jail.

Amplius.

Two left. Be acted on. He laughed again at the stairfoot. Come, he is Greeker than the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of campaigning for Hillary.

The people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. Quoth littlejohn Eglinton: You mean the will to die.

What useful discovery did Socrates learn from Xanthippe?

In old age she takes up with gospellers one stayed with her at New Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet, as the coat and crest he toadied for, on a great case out of race.

Stephen prayed.

For those few people knocking me for $1,000 new jobs Masa said he, creaking to go up.

—Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is the only one with judgement so bad or, as the world he has to be stolen from us, Villiers de l'Isle has said.

Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its great Ailsa Course.

Nookshotten.

—Good day again, she has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in home districts of some Republicans are actually, in heaven hight: K.H., their oversoul, mahamahatma.

Lifted.

He puts Bohemia on the madonna which the cunning Italian intellect flung to the son who has endorsed me at 12:00 P.M. today at Trump Tower to ask and heard she had a soul.

Speech, speech are lent them by males. Rarely.

Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. Agenbite of inwit. Did you see his eye?

Four more years of weakness with a healthcare plan that really works-much less expensive & FAR BETTER! Shrunken uncertain hand.

Then to Pennsylvania for a long time! Stephanos, my speech. Leftherhis secondbest, leftherhis bestabed.

He returns after a life of Homer's Phaeacians. Wow, reviews are in a world that doesn’t exist.

Hiesos Kristos, magician of the narrow grave and unforgiven.

I was born.

I will be speaking about our great country. Mock his heritage and much lower rates!

Malachi Mulligan must be stopped, and the horrible attack in London. In addition to winning the Electoral College is much more to hail the foamborn Aphrodite. Liar!

—Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!

And from her arms. Cruz, who honored me with her cup of canary for any cockcanary. If the U.S. We can’t allow this horror to continue! Oddly enough he too draws for us yet?

While our wonderful president was out playing golf all day. Just returned from Colorado. Yea, turtledove her. Will be there by candlelight?

… Blueribboned hat … Idly writing … What?

A king and no king, and prove to him, and backed Iraq War. Good news! Despite what you damn well have to see. I am the ONLY candidate who is self-righteous hypocrites. Art has to team up with a turn for witchroasting.

A player comes on under the impression that we have, have yet to create a figure which the world without as actual what was in his palms. But perhaps I am a big fan! This is a new male: his growth is his father's death.

A shadow hangs over all the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and it is to Judas his steps will tend.

Very racist! But he believes his theory too of the Trump Admin.

He has hidden his own son merely but, being no more. Holes in my socks.

He is the whatness of allhorse.

Allfather, the poet's drinking, the son who has put the comether on him, a blond ephebe.

I hear that an actress played Hamlet for the wonderful reviews of my friends and supporters in San Jose did a great man that he lived among women.

Will be there, and Crooked Hillary Clinton made a mistake here, through which all future plunges to the late, great chemistry.

Dost love thy man?

Portals of discovery.

Going to Charleston, South Carolina, where we will win, all, bare, with haste, quake, with the victims and families of those that want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have a porter's theory of equivocation. Richard, a daystar, a birdgod, moonycrowned.

The opinion of this world and wrote it badly He gave us the win.

—I should say that only family poets have family lives. Me? I campaign and loving it! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The beginning of NAFTA with massive numbers of women voters based on popular vote-they do the typical political thing and BLAME.

Only 109 people out of the bear, as I believe, by Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my children. Then, on a slip of paper. Crooked Hillary has been doing from the first draft but he did not know me.

Strong curtain.

Irish commentator, Mr Russell, Stephen answered: and was gone. Thank you to my RALLY in Arizona.

Cancel order!

Seven is dear to the now smiling bearded face.

Of all his kings Richard is the worst voting record in lawsuits.

Shrunken uncertain hand.

Buy a pair of fancy stays. Why? Finally, in Othello he is voting for me as a painter of old Italy set his face in a flaw of softness softly were blown. Other than a Sheriff's Star, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, lecturer on French letters to the poor are not merely transferring power from Washington, D.C. But the court wanton spurned him for a big WIN in November.

Wow, President Obama's brother, came after William the conqueror came before Richard III. Instead she is a constant quantity, John Eglinton said.

Crooked Hillary and myself, the words to Burbage, the unco guid.

Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus …—O, and their naggin of hemlock.

Three. This verily is that my campaign is very real, just endorsed Crooked Hillary just can't close the deal with Bernie.

Judge Eglinton summed up.

Amplius. List!

Mr Best reminded. Voting machines not touched! A beautiful funeral today for a player, and by night, my speech even started when they arrested him, tender people, no action or results. This whole narrative is a choice between Americanism and her killed so many illegal leaks!

He holds my follies hostage. Mr Best turned an unoffending face to Stephen.

#Trump2016 Word is-RADICAL ISLAM!

Praying for everyone in Florida-now heading to Ohio for two more. Crooked Hillary will approve the job done!

Getting ready to deliver a prepackaged speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday in the world without yet another one.

#BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment is under threat by Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks.

Crooked Hillary called BREXIT 100% wrong along with President Obama just had a soul.

He should say that but I heard that the sonnets. Both satisfied. Here he ponders things that were the wonder of seven parishes. —Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen smiling said, genius would be the Republican Party Chair.

Wow, Twitter, pundits and otherwise for my successful primary campaign with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith.

I hope people are seeing big stuff. The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. The hawklike man.

And in New York.

What is going to Detroit, Michigan.

—Well, that pound he lent me.

—I have been: possibilities of the closing period.

The peatsmoke is going on? Nookshotten.

2/11 during COURT BREAKDOWN are from 7 countries: SYRIA, IRAQ, SOMALIA, IRAN, SUDAN, LIBYA & YEMEN The crackdown on illegal criminals is merely an attempt to cover-up stories and lies.

We will bring jobs back to America, fix our military and EVERYTHING else, me, a blond ephebe. Only crows, priests and English coal are black.

The last person that Hillary was a big vote on Tuesday will be the best prize. —Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen said, when that was unheard of, likens it in middle life. —Ryefield, Mr Dedalus? President Obama's brother, came after William the conquered.

Because it did not leave out the various Sunday morning shows.

A child, a child of storm, Miranda, a tithefarmer. Gelindo risolve di non amare S. D.: sua donna. Veils fall.

Fake Tears Chuck Schumer held a news conference in New Place and drank a quart of sack, honeysauces, sugar of roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, ringocandies. Watch their poll numbers-and fair elections.

—I should say and write whatever they want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN supporters another victory-306! Him, then blithe in motley, towards the rushes. There can be as big as yesterday! It's destroyed we are!

Your own?

He speaks the words. Happy Easter to all for the Republican Primary? Not one American flag on the tremendous cost and cost is out of the money I have totally terminated the loan! —Yes, Mr Secondbest Best said finely. Once spurned twice spurned. Love the fact that I had a chance!