#she was amazing and I think people probably treat her like a rebound rose

[yellobb]

Shut up oh my god?????? The Face of Boe?!?!?!?!

[fluffyvillain]

The Bond

Chapter: 4/?

Summary: Henry and Mila meet again after two years

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: A little swearing, like two words

"And what did you do after that?" Doctor Leitmann adjusted his glasses.

"I invited some friends over and I drank, a lot." Mila was completely honest as that was the deal between the two of them.

"Mhm, you see, it's not uncommon for people to swap one addiction with another and, let's face it, craving for a soulmate is sort of an addiction. Not rarely do people substitute this addiction with a different one, the one that allows them not to feel."

"I don't plan on doing that, but I have to admit that it did make me forget, even for only a few hours."

"Alright. Now, can you, please, tell me how you felt after you had left Henry at the restaurant."

Mila put both of her legs on the chair where she was sitting, hugging her shins, leaning chin on her knees. "Disappointed. Sad. Hollow. Piqued. Broken. Angry."

"Were you angry because of the way he treated you or because you didn't bond?"

"Because of the way he acted, the fact he doesn't feel the same about me makes me devastated."

"That's good, some people get angry at their soulmate because they don't feel the same way, but that is not something they chose, just like you didn't choose to feel this way for him, that is destiny. Now I'm going to ask you to do something you probably won't like, but you need it in order to begin your healing."

"Please, do."

"I need to contact Henry one more time, just to make sure. Ask him to meet you, try to explain that he got the wrong picture of you."

"Is that really necessary?" Mila felt like throwing up just thinking about it.

"I'm afraid it is, if you don't do this, you will always live with a grain of doubt."

"Well, my pride is already bruised, so what is there left to lose?"

"We will talk again last week, like we agreed. Until then, I want you to practice all the breathing techniques I showed you and everything else."

"I will, thank you."

"You have my number, if get into crises, feel free to call me at any hour."

"Thank you. Goodbye, doctor."

Mila decided to rip off the band aid right away.

 Dear Henry,

 Can we meet again? I wasn't lying about what I said. Please.

 Mila

--------------------------------------------------

10 DAYS LATER

 "So, what are your impressions after first week as a CEO?" James asked Mila.

"It's okay, a little bit stressful, but i like the position so far. And it's not like I could even make a mistake when gramps has been checking up on me the whole time."

Robert put down his glass on a table. "That's absolutely not true."

"Really, gramps? Out of 5 business days, you visited me only 4 times and you missed the 5th one only because you had a meeting outside of town." Mila raised an eyebrow at her grandfather.

"Can you blame me for wanting to help you?" Mila's eyebrow shot up even higher. "Okay, I just have to make sure that you have everything under control before I retire."

"Dad, we all know that you are never going to retire. Or you will, for a month or two." Rose joined the conversation.

"I second that." James supported his wife.

"We agree too," twins exclaimed in unison and once again their family was creeped out by the fact that they often said the exact same thing at the exact same time.

"Anyhow, I invited you here for a reason. So, you all know how I've always talked about finding my other half..." three silent nods followed, and two eye rolls - which were followed by their mother's death glare. "Well, that's not happening. I mean, it did happen, I met him, but we didn't bond. He simply doesn't feel it." Everyone kept silent, staring at her, except for uncle Blake, his eyes were fixated on the table. "I seeked professional help and I was advised to share this with my family, not to keep it inside. I've tried contacting him again, but he ignored me, so, definitely, that's it. I didn't even know that that could happen, but it can and it did happen to me." She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Cuz," Stephan grabbed Mila's hand and she expected words of support coming from him, "do you want us to kick his ass? We can do that much."

"I highly doubt that would be possible."

"Do you really think we can't do that, that we aren't strong enough? Who is that guy?" Mike supported his brother.

"Your favourite Superman."

"Christopher Reeve? He's a little dead I'm afraid."

"Okay, your second favourite."

"Cavill?"

"That's the one."

"Okay, maybe we cannot fight him, but he just dropped to the bottom of my list."

"Thanks, Mike, it means a lot to me."

"That's not fair." Everyone turned to Rose. "It's just not. Why would that happen, why to you?"

"Auntie, I will be fine, it will not be easy, but I will truly be fine. Don't you know me? I have my job to keep me busy, I will do different stuff to keep me occupied, like Sudoku, crosswords, playing video games, reading. I won't sink." Mila wasn't saying this just so Rose would calm down, she was sure she could do it, because she had to.

Robert walked over to his granddaughter speechlessly, he kissed her forehead before he excused himself to go to the bathroom, only Blake noticed a single tear rolling down his cheek, but he chose not to mention it even to his wife.

Rose insisted on staying with Mila overnight, but Mila refused. She needed to be alone, she needed to figure this out on her own. After she had bid them goodbye, she did the dishes, really focusing on what she was doing and it took her three times longer than necessary. Dishwasher wasn't even an option in her recent past or future, she used everything, every possible chore to get her mind of the way Henry felt.

Nights were the worst, she didn't know it at this moment, but it would take her months to be able to fall asleep without much trouble. Tonight wasn't an exception either, so Mila threw a blanket over her back, sitting in front of a glass wall of her living room, watching clouds get rid of excess energy, shooting up lightnings.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

2 YEARS LATER

 Waking up 2 hours before having to go to work was difficult at first, but Mila got used to it now. Doing morning yoga and meditation became a forced habit of hers, she did it so much that she got trained to block Henry's feelings within minutes, but not this morning. She almost never got the feeling of sadness and pain coming from him and even if she did, it was for a very short time. This morning those feelings wouldn't go away, it took her a lot to tone them down to a point she only felt them in traces.

The same thing happened the next day and the day after the next one. On the third day, she could barely eat her lunch, so she retreated to her office and decided to do something she hasn't done since a few days after she had met Henry. She put his name in Google search engine and pressed enter.

  Henry Cavill breks up with a long time girlfriend as she finds her soulmate

Elaine Svensson finds her soulmate, dumps Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill is back on the dating market

 Those were the first three results. Oh, that's what's going on. No wonder he's been feeling this way. Now that she knew what was going on, she though it would be easier for her to block it. Knowing how much love he felt, it wasn't a surprise he felt that way.

-----------------------------------------------------------

2 WEEKS LATER

 After finishing her yoga session, Mila made herself a cup of tea. She got her phone off a charger to check her social networks, but she was surprised to see that she got a an e-mail on her personal address last nigh. She opened it and stared at it for quite some time, it was an e-mail she should've received 2 years ago.

 I was wrong, you are not just some crazy fan.

I did some research about you, I asked around, I know who you are.

We need to meet, does tomorrow work for you? I'll come to your hotel.

 Henry

 She wasn't sure whether she wanted to answer at first, but she wasn't like him, even if her response was negative, she wanted to do it. She just wasn't sure what to write, so she opted for a short one.

 FUCK YOU!

 No, that's a little harsh, it would be rude for you to write it.

 SCREW YOU! GO TO HELL!!!

 She pressed backspace until everything was deleted. Breathe, Mila. She knew exactly what was going on, he wanted her to be his rebound. Otherwise, she would feel the change in his feelings. He knew her love would be unconditional, that she would never leave him, but she wasn't anyone's second choice, not even his. She deserved better.

 Dear Mr. Cavill,

 Thank you for your e-mail.

Unfortunately, tomorrow doesn't work for me. As a matter of fact, any day after tomorrow doesn't work for me either.

 Best regards and good luck in your future endeavors,

Mila Radcliffe

 She did 15 more minutes of meditation again and then continued her day as usually, like nothing happened. Today was the day her company organized annual blood donating day. Her grandfather started it after her mother had been in a need of blood while in the hospital, even though it didn't do much for her in the end, Robert realized the importance of blood donating. He saw it as an homage to her daughter and Mila continued his legacy.

When she was done with daily reports, she joined her coworkers in a conference room where blood donating was held. She was among the last ones, she greeted her colleagues first: "Hello everyone, you are doing an amazing thing, thank you." Then she greeted the medical staff before she filled in a standard form, they checked her hemoglobin level and then she proceeded to a quick doctor's check up. "Is everything alright, doctor?"

"It is, thank you for doing this again."

"Pleasure is all mine." Mila feed access to her biceps.

"Okay, let's check your blood pressure now." Doctor wrapped and inflatable cuff around her arm, she waited for a few seconds. "You are good to go. I just have one more question. I see in the system that you are a bone marrow donor to, have you ever donated?"

"Unfortunately, no. Nobody ever matched with me."

"Chances are 1:430, but even if you never get matched, just applying is a very noble thing. Well, that's all from me, you know the procedure."

It took less than 5 minutes for Mila to finish up the blood drawl, she thanked everyone again and left the conference room. The ones who donated blood didn't have to go back to work, especially if their job involved using physical strength, hers didn't and she was used to donating blood.

She rolled down her sleeve and continued to her office. Path leading there went through the hotel lobby, so she smiled and nodded at the front desk staff and tried to hurry in order not to disturb guests and visitors sitting there, but soon she stopped in her track when she heard someone calling her once and she knew exactly who he was.

"Mila," Henry approached her, confident steps, deep voice, arm firmly outstretched towards her.

If they were alone, she would've never accepted his hand, but she didn't want to make a scandal. She shook his hand for a second and she instantly started resenting herself for feeling the same electrical current coming through her like when she touched him the first time. "I think I made it clear that I didn't want to see you," she tried to be quiet enough so nobody else could her.

"Can we go somewhere more private, please?" Henry didn't pay much attention to her when they met, but now that he looked at her, she was beautiful. She was significantly shorter than him even on heels, he usually dated tall girls, but women's height wasn't something that was of utmost importance for him. Her large blue eyes had something worm in them even though her voice was ice cold. Since this was his best option, he could make it work, it wouldn't be so difficult. Maybe one day he would come to love her, now that Elaine would never be his again.

Mila looked him straight in the eye, his eyes looked tired and dark circles around his eyes gave out the fact that he didn't sleep in God knows how long. "Only because I don't need any kind of scandal here, let alone one caused by me. You can follow me to my office."

Henry followed silently, taking his time to analyze her appearance further. Her long dark brown curls bounced in the rhythm of her footsteps, she was on a skinnier side, but her ass didn't look skinny at all.

Mila pressed her ID card against a card reader and a door opened. "Please, go ahead," she held the door for him. They passed a few offices until they reached hers. When they entered, she gestured for him to have a seat on the opposite side of her desk, across from her chair. "Okay, go ahead. What do you want?"

"I need to apologize for my previous behavior first. I couldn't even grasp what you felt in that moment when you met me. You know, Elaine left me, about two weeks ago, we were out in a club and it was over in minutes. The person I though was the love of my life left me in about 15 minutes for her soulmate, after all the years we spent together, after I moved here for her. All of that didn't matter. That's when I saw how powerful that force is. I wish I could feel the same for you."

Mila looked at his blue eyes at first, noticing a little brown patch in one. In order to focus on what he was saying, she focused on a pile of papers in front of her. He sounded hurt and a part of him wanted to help him, to console him, but the part who wanted to kill him for even thinking about her as a consolation price won. "How stupid do you think I am? No, you don't. You wish your soulmate was Elaine and now that you can't have her anymore, you came to pick up your second prize. You miscalculated a bit, I learned to live without you and I'd rather be alone my whole life than feel like a silver medal you won, when all you've ever wanted was to win gold."

"That's not..."

"Let me stop you right there, I don't want you to waste your time anymore, nor do I want to waste mine." Mila stood up, she was the one who offered her hand now first.

Henry took it and shook it gently, he really thought that she would agree, he needed her to. He wanted to belong somewhere. "If you ever change your mind, you know how to find me."

"I won't and, please, if you ever run into me, just pretend that you didn't see me and that you don't know me, it will make things easier for me. Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot of work, you know your way out." She set back on the chair and gestured towards the door. "Goodbye, Mr. Cavill."

"Goodbye, Mila."

She waited until she heard a vague click of the second door before she threw a paper clip at the door, all of her pens followed. She slammed a drawer shut and then kicked a garbage can, feeling completely helpless. Then she lay on the floor in a fetal position, hoping the pain would go away and that her tears would dry soon.

[thatsparrow]

(fleabag/priest • read on ao3)

I love you, too.

It'll pass.

Much like God, that last bit turned out to be a lie. 

—

It's two years later and things are—fine, actually. Good, even. Cashiers ask you how you are, and you say, "I'm doing well, thanks," and it doesn't even feel like a lie. The cafe is, somehow, still a success—enough so that you can afford to do things like buy a new awning and replace the linoleum. You even spend a weekend with drop-cloths spread out over your nice, recently-replaced linoleum and give the interior a new coat of paint. You choose this pastel, light-washed teal color that looked cheery on the swatches but mostly reminds you of watered-down mouthwash. Still, when the sun comes in during the afternoons, it looks nice. You get compliments on it.

All the guinea pig pictures are still up, of course.

Both Hillary and Stephanie (who is, you remind people, actually a hamster) are also doing well, which feels like a miracle. A few months back, Hillary caught some sort of guinea pig flu and that had led to an emergency vet visit and several very-panicked Google searches about guinea pig lifespans, but then she'd gotten better and apparently they live for four-to-eight years anyway, so, she'll likely be around for ages yet.

(Hamsters, on the other hand, only live about two. Sorry, Stephanie.)

That banker—or, former banker? You never did find out what his new job was—still comes by. At least once a month, and usually on Chatty Wednesdays. He brings his wife, too, as he'd said he would. She has kind eyes—which is the sort of description you don't use very often, but suits her—and is both soft-spoken and full of questions. You learn that she bakes, because of course she does, and every so often she brings along a cloth-lined basket of lavender cookies or rose-frosted cupcakes or something equally Martha Stewart. They're fucking delicious, too.

Claire still commutes from Finland, but less often, now that she lives there. She has an apartment in London for when she visits that's obscenely beautiful and rarely-ever used—dark granite countertops and these funny-looking geometric sofas and lots of tasteful artwork (though, none of them done by your cunt stepmother). It should all be gathering dust, but Claire pays someone to clean it once a week and to keep the fridge stocked (on the off chance she comes for a sudden visit, which she never does). Sometimes, when you've been out late and your own place is too far away, you stay there for the night. Claire did give you a spare key, after all, and it seems a shame that no one is getting any use out of those million-thread count sheets or the quinoa salads in the fridge. You don't particularly like quinoa, but that isn't the point. 

The two of you don't talk often, but often enough. You know that she's busy, and when she does call, it doesn't feel like an obligation. Like, sure, maybe your sister needs a calendar reminder to phone you, but when she does, she sounds genuinely happy to hear from you. (She also just sounds genuinely happy about her life, which is such a wonderful change of pace.) Tall, blonde, beautiful, Finnish Klare posts pictures of the two of them on Facebook sometimes (yes, you got a Facebook just to friend him)—mostly selfies, all taken by him, of him and Claire in various corners of the world. Stern-looking, northern cities where the sun doesn't rise part of the year, and bright, fruit-flavored beaches where the sun never sets. Claire looks half-annoyed in all of them, but the kind of annoyance that's covering up how pleased she really is. Like she isn't allowed to look too happy about her tall, blonde, beautiful, Finnish boyfriend and how much he clearly adores his tall, brunette, equally-beautiful, British girlfriend.

"If you have a child, will you also name it Claire?"

"What? Don't be silly, we're not having a child. I don't even know if we're going to get married."

(She does, and they are.)

"You could spell it with a ch so it's a little bit different. Something silly and American, like C-h-l-a-y-r-e."

"Stop it."

(She's smiling on the other end of the phone. You expect they'll announce the pregnancy by the end of the year.)

"It's gender-neutral, too, so you're set either way. Come on—you both have perfect bones and perfect hair and it'd be such a shame to waste that. "

"You're ridiculous."

"Always, but I think I'd be a great Aunt to little Chlayre."

"I'm going, now."

Apparently, having sex with someone who has the same name as you is weird, but you get used to it. And, apparently, the sex has been so amazing anyway that it's worth a little weirdness. Good for her. God knows she needed it.

(Speaking of God—)

He moved parishes shortly after the wedding. Not God, of course, but—well, you know. You'd thought it a little dramatic to move entire cities just because you'd had sex, but it was also arguably less dramatic than his leaving the Church, so. Likely he had made the right call. You probably would have ended up hating each other by the end, anyway, if he'd stayed. It wouldn't have worked out, because when do these things ever? It's good that he left. (It isn't.) It is.

Still.

You think about him less than you used to, less than in the days after—I love you, too. It'll pass—the bus stop, when it was all still so fresh and new. When you were feeling dramatic (drunk), you'd liken it to the feeling of having lost a limb, like he'd taken one of your hands or some vital organ when he'd walked away. When you're feeling less dramatic (sober), you liken it to having lost something you'd only been promised—something fanciful, like someone told you that they'd invented the ability to breathe underwater and it had all turned out to be a lie. 

Except it wasn't a lie. He did love you. He just loved God more.

One afternoon, you'd been running errands that had happened to take you past the church (six blocks out of your way, actually, but close enough) and ducked inside—not even to say anything, just to see him, maybe—but it had been empty except for Pam arranging some pamphlets at the front. You'd asked about him, because of course you had, and she'd said he was "gone."

"Gone gone? Like—"

(Dead?)

"No, sorry, my mistake. Moved. This lovely parish on the coast whose own priest passed away a few weeks ago. A little quiet, but he says it's very charming."

"You've spoken to him, then?"

"Yes, of course."

Of course—like it's so simple.

You leave ten minutes later, after Pam's talked you into donating another ten pounds to the collection and volunteering at another church event the coming weekend, but it doesn't really hit you until you're nearly back at the cafe that he's—gone. Not dead gone, but might as well be. That, much like Harry taking that stupid dinosaur toy, he'd wanted to close the door permanently. Maybe he knew you well enough to know that you'd come back to the church someday, or maybe he knew himself well enough to figure it was only a matter of time before he turned up on your doorstep, and so he'd taken the choice away from you both. What a stupid, frustratingly-adult thing of him to do.

You hate him and love him a little bit more for it.

You don't really know what moving on looks like, but you figure it out. You drink a lot, at first, and then a little bit less. You stop feeling weepy whenever you see a Bible, or a G&T, or photos from the wedding. Rebound sex isn't as good as you'd imagined (except with the Hot Misogynist), and so you quit bringing people home quite so often—at least until you can stop comparing everyone to him. You still masturbate over him, of course, but it feels less like a need and more like a way to treat yourself. Like, if you eat all of that kale salad and only have a glass of wine with dinner, then tonight you can wank over his stupid strong arms and his stupid beautiful neck and that stupid little smile of his. If you just make it through a whole lunch with your dad and your cunt stepmother and not say anything too profane, then you get to touch yourself and imagine waking up with him in the morning and him making you pancakes and other sickeningly domestic fantasies.

It's been two years, so of course you've moved on, but you've moved on in a way that lets you keep loving him. Perhaps it's irresponsible, but you're not willing to let him go entirely. Not yet, anyway.

 —

 Then, your cunt stepmother announces that she and your father are adopting a baby.

"I'm sorry, what—"

"You've got to be fucking kidding—"

They'd waited until Claire was in town to make the announcement. They'd invited you both over for tea, and you should've known something was strange about that, but then you're sitting in the garden with a mouthful of Earl Gray and your cunt stepmother says she's adopting and you have to flip a coin between spitting out the tea all over her tasteful linens or scalding the inside of your throat.

You end up swallowing the sip, but it's a close call.

"Well, you know, I've never really ruled out having children—it's such a blessed, beautiful part of life—but, unfortunately, I can no longer conceive naturally, and so your father and I have been discussing—"

(It wasn't a discussion.)

"—and we submitted the applications and met with a mother this week. Lovely girl, terribly awful home life, can't afford to raise the baby on her own, but she's just got the most marvelous cheek bones."

(Cunt.)

"Anyway, she's due in a couple of weeks and then we'll be bringing little Felicity home—"

(Felicity?)

"—and we'd just love it if you two were there for the christening."

"Yeah, because this family has such a great record with godmothers."

Your cunt stepmother is still smiling but the look she's giving you is acidic enough to peel paint.

"Oh, look, I don't know." Claire's grip on the teacup is so tight, you're surprised she hasn't cracked the porcelain. "I've just taken time off to come home, and I'm really not sure I'll be able to again so soon—"

"No, but you must—mustn't she, darling? Your father just couldn't bear it if you weren't there for such an important day, and we did so miss you at the wedding reception."

(Two years, and she still hasn't let that go.)

"Say you will, Claire. Please? Promise us you'll be there." How your cunt stepmother manages to look so pleading is a mystery, but fuck her if she doesn't have it nailed. Your father is still mostly silent, as he's been throughout this whole ordeal, but Claire must see something in his expression because she relents with a, "Yes, fine, alright. I'll be there."

For the christening. The christening of the baby they're adopting. Your father's going to be in his fucking seventies at the kid's graduation.

"Oh, how marvelous! It won't be for a few months or so after the birth, so you should have plenty of time to get everything in order. The whole thing will be just splendid."

(It won't be.)

 —

 The day of the christening creeps up like a bad dream.

(You know those events when you think you'd rather get a bikini wax and then take a bath in lemon juice than attend? This is one of those days.)

You found a dress that seems like a good church dress, a boat-neck, sky-blue thing that doesn't really do anything for your figure, but it is a christening, so. You get there early because your cunt stepmother asked you to (demanded it), and because Claire will be getting there early as well, and maybe the two of you can sneak some of the church wine. You figure you'll probably be handing out programs or directing people to their seats or whatever else happens at a christening. It'll last about an hour, and then there will be a tasteful reception with champagne and sparkling cider and your dad and cunt stepmother showing off baby Felicity in her white, wedding-like christening gown, and then you can go home and forget the whole thing ever happened.

That's the plan, anyway.

You get to the church a half-hour before the christening starts (which is still later than you were meant to be here, but fuck it) and your cunt stepmother is already in—well, a tizzy. She's wearing this funny, artsy-looking gown that's patterned like stained glass and you wish it looked worse on her than it does. She's not yet holding baby Felicity (because this day isn't really about baby Felicity) but she is deep in conversation with the priest up near the altar, who's already dressed in his own decorative christening robes. Then your cunt stepmother looks up and sees you standing in the aisle, half-debating whether you could hide under the pews, and she's calling out your name and saying, "Thank God you're finally here—sorry, Father," and, "Oh, do you remember—?"

(It's him.)

"—he's the priest who officiated our wedding. He's not in the parish anymore—such a shame—but when I knew we'd be adopting little Felicity, I contacted him to find out if he'd be willing to perform the ceremony. Such a dear, isn't he?"

(It's him.)

"I do so love the symmetry of it. And it seemed such a hassle trying to find another priest we'd connect with when we already knew such a nice fellow."

(It's him, it's him—fuck me—it's him.)

He smiles when he sees you, a nice, polite, church smile. Of course, he's had however many weeks to prepare for this whereas you've just had an anvil dropped on you like you're Wile E. fucking Coyote.

"Pleasure to see you again," he says. He even sounds sincere.

"Likewise—" you say, but then your cunt stepmother is coming down from the altar and shepherding you into the back and putting you to work folding programs—"Make sure you're lining up the corners, dear,"—and you've never hated her quite so much. Of course, if it weren't for her and baby Felicity and the whole stupid christening, he wouldn't be here in the first place, but you're willing to ignore that for the sake of hating her. Fuck, he'd looked good, too. And here you are in your fucking church-appropriate dress folding fucking programs and by the end of the day he'll be gone back to the fucking coast and—

You need a cigarette, or ten. Fuck the programs.

It's quiet in the alley, enough so for you to take a couple of slow, deep, wonderfully nicotine-filled breaths and get yourself together. It'll be fine. It'll be miserable, but it'll also be fine. You'll sit in the pew, and you'll watch him perform the ceremony, and try very hard not to think about how beautiful he is underneath the fancy christening robes, and tonight you'll drink yourself unconscious and then wake up tomorrow and forget the whole day ever happened. It'll be the worst day of your life, but then it will be over.

(Second-worst, actually.)

The cigarette is nearly burned down to your fingernails, and you're about to stub it out when you hear the side door opening, and you say, "Sorry, Dad, I'll be there in a moment, I'm just—"

"Got a light?"

It's him.

(It's him.)

You nod, your breath feeling very shallow as he comes up next to you, leans in towards you with the tip of his cigarette. The orange light looks like paint on his skin, like he's been pulled from a Renaissance painting. He still smells the same.

"Aren't you worried about ash on your—" you gesture down at the fancy christening robes.

"Not really." He exhales, slow; his hand is shaking a little. "I doubt anyone but your stepmother would notice, anyway."

The thought gives you a sudden rush of satisfaction. Fuck, you do love him.

"I tried to quit for a while," he says after another breath, the smoke hovering in front of him, "then found I didn't really want to."

(You hope he isn't actually talking about cigarettes.)

"Better than me—I've never even tried to give it up."

(You, at least, are definitely not talking about cigarettes.)

"How have you been?" he asks.

(Miserable, then less miserable, then better, and now miserable all over again.)

"Good, actually. Haven't run myself out of business yet, so. That's something. How about you?"

"I was pretty lonely, for a while. New parish and all that. But it's not so bad now, and I quite like being so close to the water."

(You're happy that he's doing well, and also a little unhappy that he isn't doing worse.)

"That sounds nice, actually. And it's good of you, to have come all the way back for the christening. You didn't have to."

He's giving you a look. You hope it's the sort of look that means, yes, I did.

"Well, your stepmother can be awfully persistent."

"Yeah, well, she's a cunt."

He laughs at that, both amused and unsurprised. "I don't think I can mention that during my speech."

"No, probably not."

His own cigarette is nearly gone; you'll have to go inside, soon, and then the moment will be over. You really, really don't want it to be over.

"Do you ever think about moving back?" Your palms somehow feel very dry and very sweaty at once.

"Sometimes. Often, if I'm being honest, but—" he exhales instead of finishing the sentence. "There's plenty to keep me busy where I am now."

"And how's—God?" You're just fishing for time now. Badly. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Mostly the same. A bit disappointed in the state of the world, but still filled with an infinite capacity for love, forgiveness, et cetera."

"Right. I think I remember something like that in the Bible."

"Love, forgiveness, et cetera?"

"Exactly."

He laughs again, then pauses. "Do you still have it, then? The one I gave you, I mean."

(You know what he meant.)

"Yeah, I've got it somewhere." 

(In your nightstand, but he doesn't need to know that.)

He nods, then lets his own cigarette fall to the pavement.

"Well, I should—"

"You should probably—"

If you were braver, you might kiss him. If he were braver, he might kiss you. You don't really want him to leave, and he doesn't particularly look like he wants to go, but without being brave, neither of you knows what's supposed to happen next. He'd go back inside and then go back to his new parish, probably, and you'd never see him again. It's painful, how much you don't want that.

"Can I ask you something?"

He looks both curious and a little afraid for the question. "Yeah, of course."

He'll be going anyway, whether or not if you fuck this up. There's no reason not to try—other than that you're a little bit of a coward, but that's not really an excuse.

"You said it would pass." You feel a little dizzy. "Did it?" His jaw goes tight a little, like there's a wire running through it. "I'm just—curious, I guess." You take a slow breath. Fuck, what you wouldn't give for another cigarette right now, or an IV filled with whiskey. "Because it didn't, for me."

At that, he lets go of whatever tension he was holding in his jaw. He lets out a half-laugh that seems—relieved, almost. "No?"

You shake your head.

"No. It didn't for me, either. I feel like I've spent the last few years cheating on God—loving him and loving you."

There it is, in the open then. I love you, too.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You want to kiss him, or maybe have him fuck you against the wall. You think he probably would, too. It's exhausting, feeling this elated and miserable at once; by the time you go back inside, you hope the needle has landed on one or the other, you almost don't care which.

"What does that mean, then?"

He laughs again. "Fuck if I know. Like I haven't wasted two years trying to figure that out." He sighs, impossibly weary. "I still don't want to leave the church."

"Okay."

"But I don't want to spend any more time without you, either."

"Okay."

"It would help if you said anything else."

"I would, if I knew what else to say."

(Kiss me, fuck me, marry me—none of those are particularly solution-oriented, though.)

"It's been a while since we were friends. We might not like each other anymore."

(Bullshit. To the friends part and the not liking each other part.)

"Yeah, maybe."

"We could still end up hating each other."

(We wouldn't.)

"Also true."

"But—I could come back. See you again. See if this is still—"

(It is.)

"I'd like that."

He nods, weighty, like you were just discussing how to solve world hunger instead of whether or not he'll move a forty-minute drive back inland. 

"I should actually get back inside, now, before your stepmother castrates me—"

(Which would be a shame, now, after all that.)

"—but I'll be in touch? If you want?"

"I—yeah. Yes, I do."

He nods, and then he's stepping away, back towards the side door and the interior of the church. You wish he'd moved the other way, wish he'd push you up against the pitted brick wall and kiss you like it'd kill him to do anything else, but he doesn't. He's already in his fancy christening robes, after all, and it'd be a shame to wrinkle them now. Besides, you've waited two years. You can wait a few weeks or months more. You can wait, and then the two of you will figure out what happens next. He loves you as much as he loves God, and that already feels like a better place to start.

You brush the ash from your own dress and go back inside.

(You had said this was a love story.) 

[bluboothalassophile]

Hi Blu, I know you said you were going on a break, and I can wait for the answer until you're ready or have time, but what are your OTPs in DC and why?

Hello,

That’s going to be a lot of Ships, not a whole hell of a lot of reasons though if you don’t mind. I mostly ship on chemistry or how I feel the pair would compliment each other in a relationship, usually pulling them apart psycologically and history wise to see if they might fit well together. Shipping on chemistry just makes life easier.

OTPs

JayRae, I hope that it’s obvious. Crack ship it may be, but it’s my love.

BatCat, July, I just have to make it to July then they are hitched and no more painful dramas of this on again-off again thing.

Clois, they are my Disney Prince and Princess, don’t fuck with it. And I’m not talking some whimpy love story prince and princess, where the prince doesn’t go after his girl, I’m talking true love, once upon a dream shit with Clark and Lois, I fucking adore them, so do not fuck with it.

Harley/Ivy, I shipped them together before I even understood what lesbians were! 

WonderTrev, again, do not fuck with it, they are the most precious example of equals, and true meeting of minds, hearts, and love, whilst maintaining their individual identities in a strong relationship that means a lot to both. It’s deep, meaningful, and just wonderful, simply wonderful, in the eternal love that is displayed between Steve and Diana. It also broke the mold, for the era that it was published in, for a traditional relationship and just so delightful in expressing love whilst not taking power from the girl or forcing her to be submissive. Again, Do Not Fuck With It.

MultiShips

DickKori, as eternal love, not young love. 

DickBabs, as young love not eternal love. I’m all for their friendship, just not their romance, I think their romance fizzles out a lot of the time, or brings out the worst in each other, while their friendship brings out the best they have to offer.

DickZatanna, interesting, blame YJ

TimSteph

TimKon

TimCass, Don’t Shoot Me! I shipped them before Cass was B’s kid!

BartJaime

DamiJon

DamIrey

DamiMar’i; I really, really, really shouldn’t, but Gods I can’t help it.

Mar’iJon, I shouldn’t, but they’re cute.

Mar’iLian

LianHelena

LianTerry

Cassandra Cain/Emiko Queen, I think Cass is probably pan-sexual, so her relationships could be very interesting

CassHarper

Cassandra Cain/Conner Kent

Kaldur’ahm/Wally II (Don’t ask, just don’t, I don’t even know why I ship them together I just do)

MidnighterApollo, they are awesome!

BarryIris, one of my true love couples, again, but I just never got super into the Flash comics so I’m not die hard for them to stay together. The show has made them rather mundane and not all that unique, but still, they’re cute.

SnowBarry; I blame the first season of Flash for that! I like it, I enjoy it, but I don’t see them as anything but the rebounds for each other.

Olicity; I blame Arrow for that! Before Arrow I stood firmly on the belief that no other would work for Oliver aside from Dinah. However, Felicity is awesome and she and Oliver are a good couple

Oliver/Dinah, they’re kick ass together

Lucas Fox/Babara Gordon, for the .00025 seconds it was happening I thought it would be fucking amazing and actually do some good for Babs, because God knows she and Dick are a wreck 99.5% of the time when together, outside of sex

MeraDiana, guilty pleasure IF Steve and Arthur are dead or not in the picture

Shyra Hol/John Stewart, JL cartoon ruined me for them before I even knew what shipping was

Wally West/Artemis Crock, I’ve NEVER liked Linda Park for Wally, never

TerryMax, again, TV, not comics influenced that love

BartJaime, do not fuck with it, they’re awesome

RoyThea

RoyDonna

GarthDolphin

Zatanna/Artemis, guilty pleasure

GarRose, that is all Xaphrin, Garfield Logan and Rose just click in her works, I almost wish she wrote more of them

BumbleBee/Cyborg, They were my goo-goo Titans couple as a kid, I adored them

BBTerra, yeah, yeah, I know this isn’t what people like, but they WORKED!

PenguinRiddler, and that was BEFORE Gotham started, it was just a quirky thought as a kid

Constantine/Zed

Constantine/Epiphany

Constantine/Chas

Constantine/Zatanna; IF it’s written well I think it’s interesting, if written poorly, I’d rather NOT read it. Bombshells is an Excellent Example! of ConstantineZatanna being written Well.

Captain Marvel/Stargirl

Arthur Curry/Mera

JeriRae; guilty pleasure if it’s written well

JayRose; guilty pleasure if it’s written well

BBWally II, again, just don’t ask

Wally I/Jinx

JayRoy, okay, if it is written WELL I enjoy the romance, if not, I’m all for their friendship, they have the best bromance ever! Like seriously, even if they aren’t a couple I’m all for their bromance. It’s WAY better than DickWally’s BFF bromance thing, JayRoy are just fucking AWESOME!

KaraBabs, obvious I think. And I think Babs has a better romance with Kara than Dick, which is sad given all the fucking effort DC goes through to shove DickBabs on us, and BabsKara, whilst friends, appear to have a better romance potential than DickBabs.

NOTPs

SuperWonder, No. Just No. On so many levels, NO. That’s Too Much Power, also Morals Will Clash. Just NO.

BatJoker, Nope. Uh-uh, No. Reasons should be obvious.

BBRae, No, On So MANY LEVELS, NO! I respect people who enjoy it, but I despise it, I think it’s a prime example of a very bad, bordering on abusive romance, it’s worse than comics DickRae! Just No.

COMICS DickRae, reasons should be obvious if you’ve read the comics.

DickBabs past anything but young love

TimBabs, WTF!? Cradle robber much!**

JayBabs, who ever thought that one up deserves to be smacked, after all the shit Babs has been known to do to Jay (not that he doesn’t deserve some of it), and all the shit he dishes back, not to mention it’s like making Babs the Bat Slut… NO.**

JayKori, Can We PLEASE Stop Giving Jason Dick’s Hand-Me-Downs In the Love Department!? Does he Not deserve his OWN, Original Love Life!? Not the one littered with Dick’s string of broken hearted exes! What’s next!? ShawnJay!? TarantulaJay!? I don’t mind multiships, and having crossing interests, but seriously DC put SOME Thought into these ships. Just a Little! 

Artemis of Bana-Mighdall/Jason; Again DC!? Please put SOME Thought into these ships! Artemis, according to history and valid reasons, is not a fan of men and has always been shown to prefer women, I doubt that it changes because she’s on Jay’s team and he’s not that bad of a guy. I also sincerely doubt after losing her best friend/possible girlfriend/possible lover that she’d leap into a relationship with a GUY of all people. I respect people who ship JayArty together, I just don’t see it, and I feel they don’t have any real chemistry

BruceBabs, I’ll be honest, Batman the Animated series infuriated me as a kid because of the B/Babs thing, and she was dating Dick at one point of that and pregnant with B’s kid! GROSS! It has taken me A LOT of years and objective reading after that stunt to even RESPECT Babs and B in the same light! No Ship There. NO.**

**I’m not saying that Babs shouldn’t be treated as her own woman, and be free to sleep with whoever the hell she wants, I say go for it, but I also am disgusted at the thought of her leaping from one Bat’s bed to the next, it’s degrading to her character and the Bats. She’s not their whore, nor are they her harem. She is a self-respecting character and woman, and I find it insulting writers have reduced her to being nothing but a Bat love interest at times when stories run dry for the writers regardless of what she’s capable of. And I’m not even overly fond of Babs and saying this. 

Things I NEVER ship:

I Don’t Ship Incest, EVER.

I Don’t Ship Pedophilia. No.

I Will Never Ship An Abusive Relationship

I also don’t ship a pair if I don’t feel they have the chemistry, sorry, but this last reason ought to be easy to understand and relateable.

[abdicatedarchive]

truly tied || rose and marina

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: marina’s dorm room // spring 2021.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: rose x marina.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒: none.

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒: rose and marina end their several month long bet from who can hold out on romantic interests the longest.

Rose walked into Marina's room without knocking, as per usual. To a certain extent it was like they still lived at home. She was nervous to admit her defeat, it wasn't every day that Rosemary Hollingsworth conceded to Marina Hollingsworth. She was shocked the bet had lasted this long at all. "Okay so I have some news" she said with a big sigh as she flopped down onto her sister's bed. "And you're totally not allowed to happy dance for you, you're only allowed to happy dance for me. Sisters honor. Because I totally could have lied to you" Rosemary rambled before she got to the news.

Marina was almost finished with her journaling when Rose walked in. She was planning on going to her sister's room after she was finished to give the unfortunate news of her loss, but it seemed like this was happening sooner than expected. "One, if you lied, I would definitely find out." she said to lighten the mood a bit. "But two, I also have news for you. You go first though, mine is not happy news." Marina said before tilting her head to the side. "Well, bad for me, not so much for you."

Rose faked shock and hurt, "Ummmm, you most definitely would not!!!" she joked. Rose would have caved and immediately told her regardless, which is exactly what she was doing right now. "bad news second? Okay, your funeral" said Rosemary with a little bit of judgment. What had Marina done? What was the bad news? "OoooOOoh, bad for you! Well I think we are in the same boat then sister dearest. It's gonna come down to the finish line" Rose said, a glint of hope in her eyes that she had not lost the bet. Oh sweet sweet victory come home to Rosie!!!!! "It was Taylor, and oh my GOD. I don't know if it's because I haven't had sex in months or what?! But it was AMAZING, I thought he was a total softie and inexperienced but WHOA" said Rose, blushing just talking about it.

Marina perked up a bit once Rose mentioned they were in the same boat. Of course after all this time, they would both give in. Maybe Marina didn't lose after all, things were starting to look up. Winning never seemed so sweet. But they could talk about that after they share who they hooked up with. That was vital information, and they deserved a little time of hyping each other up, even though she wasn't sure how her sister would take her news. Saoirse wasn't exactly the best girl for Marina. "Ooooh! He's so cute!" she squealed in excitement. "Taylor news now, bet talk after." Marina had seen Taylor around and he seemed like a pretty shy guy. Super harmless, probably very sweet. "So what's gonna happen now with you two? Was it just a one time thing, or are you trying to see him more?"

Rose was blushing, "It sounds like we're going to see each other again tomorrow. So that's looking up. He can't get enough of this!" she squealed. Ahh, being interested in someone so great set Rose's brain on fire. Finally a good thing going for her. No more shitty guys or shitty girls. Just Rose and someone who cares. "Wait, hold on a second. You have not said the name of your person. Are you ashamed?" Rose squinted her eyes and tried to get a good read on her sister. "Was it ... Chase? Jonah? A friend moment you cannot return from? Nerd sex? Why aren't you telling me. But now don't tell me I'm going to figure it out" she said, accepting the challenge for herself. "Nerd sex is a hot commodity, I feel like you wouldn't do that unless you were prepped and had the perfect outfit and location, so it has to be like emotionally embarrassing. Hmmmm" she said, thinking harder and not smarter. "Emotionally embarrassing. An ex?" she said as the lightbulb went off over her head, "Saorise?!" she said, her eyes going wide with that doe like shock.

Marina smiled wide at Rose, she just wanted the best for her sister, and that included people she would potentially date. She was always quick to defend the people she loved, but she knew she couldn't be overprotective either. She quickly pulled her sister in for a quick hug, "Even though I'm hoping you didn't win, I'm happy for you." she paused to pull away. "But you know if any sus behavior starts to occur, you can tell me. I promise I won't lash out." Marina wanted to remind Rose to always put herself first, but she didn't want to come across like she was implying something. They both had gone through quite a bit of problems separately, and a lot had resulted from it. She listened to her sister think out loud, and knew where this was going. It wouldn't take long for her to figure it out. Marina groaned when Saoirse's name was brought up and she immediately buried her face in the palm of her hands. "Maybe." she mumbled through her hands before picking her head up. "But it was just a one time thing. Really. I think it was the lack of sex that had me acting up."

Rosemary knew better than to let herself get hurt again, but something about Taylor had her putting down her guard so easily. Maybe it's how long he took to make a move, how she felt like she was always making moves. She gave Marina a mildly dissapointed face, "I mean hey. The body wants what the body wants. Whether or not the head and the heart agree" said Rose. She couldn't exactly judge her sister for double dipping with someone she shouldn't. Rose was all up on her high school ex every waking minute after their break up. It was tragic. "Yeah as long as you have that boundary I feel like its no harm" she reasoned. Doing her best to be supportive. If this is what Marina wanted, and knew herself then she had absolutely no reason to worry. "Was it as good as you remembered it? Before we compare time stamps" said Rose, still thinking mildly about their little bet.

Marina could see the disappointment on Rose's face, but she wasn't going to keep driving it in that it was just a one time thing. That would make it look like she was lying ... and she wasn't lying. Marina had gained some self control since her and Saoirse first ended things. She was a very impulsive person, but she was getting better. Really. "Yeah, exactly, and now that the bet's off. I could just hook up with anyone, maybe go on a few dates. She won't even be in my thoughts." she said, convincingly enough. She was convincing herself in this moment, and that was enough for her. "But yeah. It was actually better than I remember. Like a lot better ... but I mean, whatever." she shrugged casually. "But enough of that, let's talk times. I have mine on my phone." she said proudly before going into her notes app. Did that sound silly? Maybe. But it wasn't to the Hollingsworth girls.

Rose was happy with Marina's answer. She knew her sister would probably sleep with Saorise again, but we all learn lessons in our own time. God knows Marina had to watch Rose learn some hard lessons in high school, and Rose had to watch Marina too. It's hard to not be able to protect the people that you love. "Yes. Times" said Rose as she pulled up her own notes app. "Okay, I had sex around 9pm last night" said the girl. She had a more exact time, but she didn't want to be weird about it. If they needed to get into specifics she was more than ready.

Marina looked up from her phone and stayed silent for minute. Not this shit... She also had the time down at 9 pm last night, but luckily, she had more specific details for the time. But she wasn't expecting to get into that. There was absolutely no way that they were on the same time, right? "Uh... around 9? Or 9? Or like 9:30?" she asked. "Cause we seem to be cutting it real close right now."

Down to the wire between the Hollingsworth girls. Who was going to take the victory? It was too close to tell. "closer to 9:15. What about you?" she asked, hoping that it was too close to call. Even if she did loose she could always call bullshit on the fact that it was super close. It wouldn't be a satisfying win for either of the girls. And after all this time. Goddamnit.

"I hate us." Marina whined as she showed her sister the time that was typed out on her phone. All these months, all this restraint ... for a tie. How does that even happen? "Is this the downfall of having a twin? Because neither of us signed up for that." she sighed dramatically. "Can't we just say we both technically won? There's no actual loser soooo." It wasn't a real win, but she was officially over it.

Rosemary hated not winning. But she did have a plan, "Well ... we can just assume that Paola and Max both lost way before us. So we are the family champions" she said, even though the bet hadn't been a complete waste of time. She had become a lot better about who she was spending time with and being more selective with people. Rose also learned how many people were in her life just to sleep with her or to hook up at parties. That had been frustrating. But she guessed on some level she knew it all along.

"Yeaaah ... yeah! Let's go with that." Marina nodded her head and pointed at Rose. She was glad the bet was over, but she just hoped that she didn't fall back into old habits. She found herself always being some kind of rebound to others, someone temporary. It wasn't something she liked to think too hard on though, it only made her feel worse about herself. "Well since we are the family champions, we deserve a treat. Smoothie time?" she suggested.

"Smoothie time" she responded, thinking about how happy she was with Taylor. How it finally felt like someone wasn't using her for something. Freshman year was looking up as it came to a close, "Did you see the email that we're assigned to the same cabin? We are so going to crush cabin olympics" said the girl as she picked her bag up and they headed out the door. "I know Magnolia and Kaia are going to give us a run for our money, but we can manipulate them into arguing" said Rose as she arched her eyebrow and smiled. "It'll be too easy" she added.

"There's pretty much no competition for us, we got this." Marina said all excited before she grabbed her bag and locked the door as they left. When one competition was finished, another started, but this time, her and Rose were a team. They were practically unstoppable. "I don't even think we need to manipulate them, they argue all on their own. Buuuut that still is a fun idea." she added in with a small smirk. "Magnolia trying to act all sweet in front of the kids, Kaia trying to not kick her ass in the process. Oh how I miss summer camp!"

"And who knows, maybe you'll have a summer love" encouraged Rosemary, "you know what they say. What happens at camp stays at camp". Rose knew she wasn't going to be doing any of that. It was going to be all late night phone calls and quick weekend getaways to get to see Taylor, "I already have mine. So consider me on Marina wingwoman duty effective immediately" she said, her smile shining bright. Anything to distract her from Saorise. "Plus we can definitely pull some very creative pranks on Jonah and Chase. Maybe even Wren" said the girl with a wicked smile. //END

[mrs-hongs-blog]

By Your Side

m e m b e r : mr jeon wONWOO (gif above killed me)

g e n r e : fluff!! (again sorry i love fluff)

w o r d c o u n t : 1.9k

i n t r o : high school life, you were always so young, reckless and rash. you would date guys who thought loved you but were just playing with you, but you never knew the only guy that mattered was by your side, all along. 

a / n : hi everyone, thank you for all the follows, notes and messages!  it really made my day and i’m so happy really... here’s another story of another man that pulled me in his lane.... this is actually a remake of my dream from a few nights ago so, i hope you enjoy it! lots of love~

“That’s it. We’re breaking up.” Mingyu said, slamming his locker. The slam was so loud, the whole hall became silent. You saw that everyone’s head turned, and they were all looking at you two. “I’ve had enough of you, you’re not even that pretty. My ex isn’t even jealous of you.” What? Did you hear him right?

“Your ex? So I was a rebound all along?” Mingyu snickered. “No need to label yourself so high, you were nothing less then something to make my ex jealous.” He sighed and walked away, “Don’t call me ever again.” You watched as he walked away and your eyes blurred with tears.

You turned your head, hid your face and ran straight into the toilet. You heard footsteps following you, and then pounding on the door. “Hey, open up!” “Let us in, please.” It was your two best friends, Wonwoo and Seungyeon. You cried and cried, before the door burst open, Wonwoo looking at you before pulling you up into a hug.

Seungyeon sighed, “I really don’t want to say it, but we told you. He was just using you. It’s the 5th one of this year.” Wonwoo shot a look over at Seungyeon and she immediately kept quiet. He hugged you tighter and hushed you, patting your back. “It’s going to be okay, just cry it out.”

A little back story to the 3 of you, you guys have been friends since the first year of high school, since you guys came from the same middle school. It’s been 3 years, but you guys have been together ever since.

Seungyeon and Wonwoo dated 2 years ago, but broke up after a month because they agreed that it’s better to stay friends. At least that’s what they both told you, you never dugged into it since it was a sensitive topic.

Soon after, the 3 of you returned to class. Seungyeon sat infront of you while Wonwoo sat on your right. Luckily, your seat was the last row, by the window. You could daydream without being caught. You were staring at your maths paper with a blank mind and Wonwoo looked at you before sighing.

He slid a piece of paper to your table, and it read, “Hey, you okay? Cheer up, Superman Woo is here to push you on.” On it was a drawing of allegedly him, wearing a cape and flying. You snickered at his drawing skills, but look over and thanked him with a smile. He winked at you and you giggled.

It was no denying that there is something going on with you and Wonwoo, you would hold his hands occasionally in public, cuddle him during movie nights and even peck his cheek. Well, it’s not your fault that he is so dorky and good looking.

Later on, after school ended, Seungyeon and Wonwoo sent you home and stayed over for dinner. Seungyeon gave you a pep talk on how you should focus on passing your college entry exams and how some boys are just not worth stressing over. Wonwoo just sat and cheered at her.

“So promise us, that you will focus on your entry exams and not date boys who are just going to break your heart!” Seungyeon said, pointing her pen in the centre of your head. And of course, you pink promised them.

As they were leaving, Wonwoo stopped at the door, pulling you into a hug. “You deserve the best, and I hope you don’t settle for anything less.” He kissed your forehead, before walking away. For some reason it made your heart flutter.

The last few months of high school, you spent it surrounded in books with Wonwoo and Seungyeon. Of course, your looks had scored some boys staring at you in the library. There was countless boys who slid notes of their phone numbers, but Wonwoo always crushed them and threw it away. You took his action as not getting distracted, since it’s part of your promise.

Before you knew it, college entry exams were over, and you guys were on a 3 month holiday before eventually collecting your results, which then determine your future. For the first month, the 3 of you worked crazy hours in the cafe in the literal centre of all of your houses.

You guys probably earned enough for next 6 months, so the rest of the 2 months was spent just lazing around at each other’s house, pigging out, movie nights and catching up on sleep.

Before you guys knew it, it was graduation day. “Man, I’m so ready to get out of this damn school!” Seungyeon said as she walked by your side.

“Me too! Hey wait, where’s Wonwoo?” He was always there with you guys in the morning, but today he wasn’t. “That dick is probably asleep, he thinks this morning assembly is just the principal giving a long speech and a bunch of girls crying.” Well shit, it’s not like what he said wasn’t true. “If I had known, I would stay home too.”

Soon after a bunch of crying session, we all returned to the homeroom class. Wonwoo still wasn’t there, and the morning class was about to end. “Geez this man is really skipping a whole day of school!” You shouted, mentally cursing him for not asking you to join.

“Ah well anyways, let’s go! I booked us an make over appointment!” What did she just say? “AGAIN?! Where did you get all this money?!” Before you could continue nagging and digging, Seungyeon dragged you away.

After a short drive, you guys arrived at a salon and were greeted by a few really nice ladies. They told us to wash up before dressing us in our uniforms again, then styling our hair and makeup. “What the hell Seungyeon, it’s just a graduation party, not your wedding goddamnit!”

Seungyeon rolled her eyes and after a power nap, you guys were done. “Dang, you look stunning. No wonder guys are always all over you.” Seungyeon said, eyeing you. You slapped her before the staff draped your graduation gowns over you guys.

“Congrats on the graduation! Wishing you an amazing day ahead!” The manager said, before we left to the school. While on the road, Seungyeon kept looking at me. “Stop doing that!” You said loudly, slapping her thigh. “I can’t help it when my best friend is sOoooOo gorgeous!” You rolled your eyes and before you knew it, you guys were in school.

You arrived in the hallway and met up with your classmates. You scanned around for a tall dorky man but none was sighted. “Damn, Jeon Wonwoo is really planning on screwing up his graduation?” You said to Seungyeon, who was touching up her blush.

“I need to go to the bathroom, this blush is just not working. Please help me.” You guys walked over to the bathroom and you stood there, waiting for Seungyeon to fix her blush, just then, an old lady walked into the toilet.

“Excuse me young lady?” She asked, walking towards you. “Ah, yes? May I help you?” You said, smiling. “I’m lost. Can you bring me to the sky garden?” You shot Seungyeon a look, “I’ll be fine, I’ll meet you in the hall later after I fix this.” You nodded and proceeded to help the old lady.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you need to go to the sky garden?” You asked the old lady politely, and she smiled. “There’s where I met my husband. I would like to see it again.” You exchanged conversation with the old lady while on the way to the sky garden.

“It’s right here, straight ahead-“ You looked to the direction of the garden and spotted a bunch of people, standing in 2 lines, holding flowers. Upon closer inspection, it was your parents, grandparents, Wonwoo’s parents, a grandfather, your little sister and Seungyeon at the door.

“What- What is th-“ You asked the old lady before she handed you the same rose everyone was holding. “Move along my dear. I forgot to tell you, my dear grandson is Wonwoo!” She said smiling, pushing me towards everyone. I walked slowly, looking at this odd scenario.

My dad was first to hand me the rose, “For every time you made me smile.” You looked at him weirdly, before your mum passed you the rose she was holding, “For every time you made my heart beat faster.” You walked down more, and next were Wonwoo’s parents.

“For every time you brighten up my dark days.” Wonwoo’s dad smiled proudly. You thanked him before moving on to his mum. “For every time you let me open up to you.” You thanked her, moving on to what you assumed to be Wonwoo’s grandfather, husband of the old lady you just helped.

“For every time you cared for me when I was sick.” You thanked him, and your sister passed you her rose. “For when you would tell me stupid jokes, and I would laugh because of how cute you are!” You kissed her forehead and turned to Seungyeon.

“And for every time you made me feel like the luckiest man on earth.” Seungyeon passed me the rose and smiled proudly. She stepped aside and I pushed open the door. There was Wonwoo, smiling widely seeing you.

“H-hi. You look beautiful.” He said, as you walked towards him. He was holding a hUGE bouquet of roses. “Thank you, Wonwoo ah.” You smiled and he smiled widely. He then looked me in the eye, before her fumbled with something from his pocket.

“Listen, I’ve been in love with you for the longest time ever. And I hate seeing you get hurt by guys who don’t know how to appreciate how beautiful, amazing and kind you are. I love you, your smile, how you cheer me up, how you make my days brighter, your stupidly cute jokes, your kindness and how beautiful you are. I want to show you just how you deserved to be treated. You deserve the world world, and I want to give it to you.”

After he said that, he just stood there, eyes sparkling. I was at a loss of words, I just smiled. He then looked at me, “Will you make me the luckiest man in the world, and be my girlfriend?” You smiled even wider, if that was possible.

“In a hearbeat.” You breathed out because you lost your breath and Wonwoo hugged you, spinned you around and kissed you. “I love you.” All your life you were chasing someone who didn’t love you.

But what you didn’t know, was the person who mattered most, was by your side.

[scriptscribbles]

I've been a second-hand Who fan for years now but I'm finally actually watching it (loving it so far; I'm part way through S4), and almost everyone I talked to said they can't stand Martha and that I wouldn't like her, but I ended up freaking LOVING her. What is with all the Martha hate?? She's amazing! My favorite companion so far, and she deserves so much more from Ten (but even still I love their relationship). She had better get a good ending..

Oh, anon, you’ve come to the right place to enthuse about Martha! I absolutely adore her, she’s my favorite companion of Russell T Davies’ time running the show. For me, she just was the definitive Tenth Doctor companion; the first one I watched as the episodes came out (after catching DVR recordings of the Rose stuff courtesy of my Dad) and the one I spent a ton of time with in the tie-in books (I have more tie-in books with Ten and Martha than with any other Doctor Who characters because of the timing, and I love them dearly). I think she’s utterly fantastic. Please, if you ever want more of her, check out those books. One’s even all about her adventures during the series three finale, The Story of Martha, and it’s a book I’ve been meaning to get for ages. Also, check out her Torchwood episodes! She’s in three episodes of series 2 (and was gonna be in more but Freema Agyeman was busy).

As for why she’s less popular, I think it’s a complicated one. I think a big part of it though is the shadow of Rose; Rose was sort of the only companion for a lot of viewers before Martha, and it wasn’t an easy adjustment. Add that to the way the show handled the transition, treating Martha as a rebound and giving her an unrequited crush on the Doctor, I think to many people she came across as an interruption or even a threat to the love story they loved. That saddens me a lot. She’s a wonderful character undeserving of that. Also, as many have pointed out so I probably should add, it's very very likely race played a role in many people's distaste with her.

I have a lot of divided feelings on where Martha goes as a character, and a lot of thoughts on future stories I’d love to see from books or audios (in Doctor Who basically everything gets continued on audio eventually), places I’d love to see her character pushed into. I’d love to hear what you make of her ending in The End of Time once you get there! Basically, I just really really love Martha Jones, feel free to talk all about her to me!

[ulyssesredux]

Sirens

Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling! —M'appari, Simon! The truly great business in our country? Echo. Only the harp.

Rehearsing his band part.

—What is he doing in the coffin coffin?

Litigation.

#MDW Don't believe the people who are fully armed. She had a good spinnnn!

Too much trouble, Bob. Ah, Martha! This is the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. I am asking the chairs of the all is going to tear it up. Ha. Today will be a person wouldn't expect it in the moonlight with those ads. Great move on delay by V. Putin-I won the Trump University case on summary judgement but have a clue. Wish they'd sing more.

Wisdom while you wait. Brightly the keys, obedient, rose of Castile: fretted, forlorn, dreamily rose. Such a dishonest person-& Paul Ryan should spend more time on balancing the budget, military, vets etc. To write today. Lullaby. Mina Kennedy, pouring. If Russia or any other candidate. A boy.

Cloche. Come on, Simon.

Taking my motives he twined and turned them.

Married to the quivery loveshivery roofpanes. Tap. It is so embarrassed by the Dems total mess. Tap blind walked tapping by the beerpull gazed far away. You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell, gentleman, entering.

In here. Yes.

I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders and that minstrel boy of the dark middle earth. Low energy Jeb Bush, both of black satin, rose of summer dollard left bloom I feel it is #1 trending. Poor Mrs Purefoy. Rain. Yes, joy, indignation. Then to Pennsylvania for a razzle backache spree. Napkinring in his no don't she cried. But wait till I see. Kernan. Why? Ladylike in exquisite contrast. Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes.

Instance he's playing now? But look this way, he wanted Power and Leopold Bloom.

O, the world comes to its senses regarding nukes Someone incorrectly stated that there are four people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mails?

A headland, a little later so the wall, then slid so smoothly, slowly down, girls learning. Was probably treated badly! Why isn't President Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech two hours early but let him speak anyway. In Crooked Hillary's telepromter speech yesterday, she said. Love the fact that the WALL was very angry looking during Crooked's speech.

Two multiplied by two powerful earthquakes in Italy and Myanmar. Love. Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary victory, to speak-Wednesday release Just returned from Pensacola, Florida at noon. Seven last words.

Right, Pat, came bothered Pat, came bothered Pat, Mina, did not, the TSA is falling apart not to see it was going to take a flagon, stretching her satin arm, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. See. What a terrible job representing workers.

Yes, her mermaid's, into the saloon a call, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs. Wonder where that rat is by now. He had no wed.

Bloowho went by by Moulang's pipes bearing in his coat Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with a carra, with wilful eyes.

Has she apologized? Sighing Mr Dedalus. On her flower frowning miss Douce said, beautiful weather. Meryl Streep, one of Egypt teased and sorted in the day along the quay went Lionelleopold, naughty Henry with letter for Mady, with the glycerine, miss Douce—Those things only bring out a comparable F-35, I have no path to victory, to come. What? Talk. He knows it well too. Tenderly Bloom over liverless saw.

The last rose of summer. No trouble. No glance of Kennedy rewarding him he banged on the barfloor, said Lenehan. Face of the many great people! Throw flower at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's wet lips said, We have Paul Ryan should spend more time on fighting Republican nominee!

Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all descriptions in castle chambers dancing. And once at masstime he had come.

Mr Boylan in while I was a lamentation. Twang. Lying out on the next number of weeks I may be the cider or perhaps the burgund. Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, your other, plash and silent roar. Well, Iran has done in Baltimore.

Clinton? Never forget that night, Mr Dedalus raised his grog and—That must have been highly diverting, said Lenehan, till you hear the time is that she is: or fingered only. —Come on, come on, said Father Cowley, he said. Long Island! Bloom.

Governor Kasich in favor of TPP fraud! Wonderful liar.

That rules the world.

Touch water. Songs without words. Only makes bad deals! —Exquisite contrast, miss Douce! No more! Coming in from our southern border.

In Gerard's rosery of Fetter lane he walks, greyedauburn.

Innocence that is possible, if they thought I was only vamping, man. Bloo mur: best references. Bloom, of the least. In Mooney's en ville and in life, soaring high, high in the glass. Bernie Sanders has been divided for a.

Not so anymore!

He stretched more, I want to report that was Ted Cruz can't get to 1237. Piano again.

Infatuated. Tenors get women by the sea. They like sad tail at end. Four? Bloom envisaged battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags.

The Croppy Boy.

Folly am I writing? What time is now calling President Obama spoke last night. #MDW Don't believe the people of Indiana and the U.S.! Will, one-sided deal from the U.S. toward businesses and 50,000 votes were illegal. Afternoon. Not yet.

There? Gone.

Broke record Have a great friend in the lute alone sat: Goulding and I thought and felt I would have millions of people who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the girl. The joy the feel the warm the. Throstle fluted.

But who cares, he did not believe: Lidlyd. And your other, signals to each other: lure them on. —to Flora's lips did hie. Down among the dead. I think I'll trouble you for some fresh water and a wonderful guy. Martha it is from a person who will uphold the US Constitution. You can tell you. Sighing Mr Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade. If he doesn't have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary! Policeman a whistle.

The lower register, for jinglejaunty blazes boy. He was the pianist that night, Si Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade. My joy is other joy.

Town traveller. Miss Kennedy, pouring now a fulldrawn tea, grimaced and prayed: Ah, I don't know what to do.

Way he looked that. See. Horrid! One comfort me. A lovely girl, her mermaid's, into the saloon a call from my friend Bill Ford to keep your weathereye open. —You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell, suave, solicited, held a lydiahand. The people get fond of each other, hearing the plash of waves, loudly, Mr Dedalus said, That is a purely religious threat, which asked me for the edge he gave it.

A youth entered a lonely Ormond hall.

Coincidence. He's off. Want to listen sharp. While Hillary said her husband? Dry. To all the tiny tiny fernfoils trembled of maidenhair. —Qui sdegno, Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. Begone dull care. Last Farewell.

—Am I awfully sunburnt?

Douce, George Lidwell second I saw on television was the croppy cried. Smack. Tankards and miss Kennedy. That's why. Knock at the rate of guinea per col. When will we get?

Shreds. Getting ready to explode. The blood it is. Go on, said Lenehan, gasping at each stretch. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Heading to Colorado for a prince. U.P: up.

Woman. A husky fifenote blew. The chords consented. Tap. No eunuch yet with all of the year.

Big Ben.

Big Benben. I like Michael Douglas! —Please, please. I will be holding a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. Why do they think when they hear music? She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. No, Ben Well Mr Dedalus nodded. Cried a diner's bell.

War! My first choice from start!

Bronze by gold, inexquisite contrast, miss Douce said. You did, faith. Milly young student. I must be. Crooked Hillary Clinton is not about Mr. Khan at the oblique triple piano! Tuned probably. The terrorist who wants to sell. Only 109 people out of earshot. Not anymore, it is.

—Was he? Doublebasses helpless, gashes in their midst a shell, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze, to speak out against Radical Islam. Out. —Well now, leaving her spyingpoint. The Clarence, Dolphin. He blotted quick on pad of Pat. The eastern seas. O, don't, she nipped a peak of skirt above her knee. Where's my hat. Tap.

Thank you to the contrary: top adv.

Last look at all loyal to the LGBT community! Walk now.

Phial of cachous, kissing comfits, in order to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Two together nextdoor neighbours. Her judgement has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya. I hope people are killing our country. A thrush. Poor Mrs Purefoy. Is that so? Time ever passing. They totally distort so many things. OHIO NBC/WSJ/MARIST POLL Trump 42% Clinton 41% Just left a great evening we had better part so clear so God he never did then false one we had better part so clear so God he never heard such an exquisite player.

#MAGA Well, so long. He was a yeoman cap. Tap.

Very dishonest! As a tribute to the brand new Trump International, Hotel D.C. for a razzle backache spree. Soulfully. She is not a clinking voice lives not a change agent, just announced-by General Michael Flynn. Governor Mike Pence. Chorusgirl's romance. Miss Douce, bending over the counter lisped a low whistle of decoy. —Was Mr Boylan looking for me, us. That issue has only created jobs at the way? Yes: all for his mother's rest he had passed and for years.

Thank you Cleveland. Yrfmstbyes. China Sea? On. By the sad. If still? Totally made up by women many already proven false and phony ads against him! His vocation: Mickey Rooney's band. She is unfit to be shoving. —Eh? Sonnez la.

A voiceless song sang from within, singing: O greasy eyes!

Nice touch.

Far. #MAGA Certainly has been amazing. Why would the USChamber be upset by the fact that the election against Bernie! Come on to blazes, said Blazes Boylan, joggled the mare went up the word BRAINWASHED. JOBS! He gnashed in fury.

Where's my hat. Low sank the music, Ben, do they have to lose by going with me that other. My poor little pres.

When will we meet?

Still you can knock a tune out of paper. Sign H. O go away! Bending, she is a waiter hard of hear by the way of a bellows. Tap blind walked tapping by the media pile on against me. —the morn is breaking.

Will you put your bill down inn my troath and pull upp ah bone? When will this stop? I will beat the PASSION of my children on December 15 to discuss the sneak attack on us all down in the least, her bust, that is possible, if that were me it would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting. To mind her stops.

As we march, we march, we will slaughter you.

Tap. Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. Big Benaben. I expect. And Prosper Lore's huguenot name. Far. Dem Gov. of MN. Embedded ore. Totally made up nonsense to steal the election! Is it the same Kaine that took hundreds of thousands of great reviews & will win the Presidency is that they heard. Yes, must prove she is My Irish Molly, O. Tap. The priest's at home after pig's cheek and cabbage nursing it in the Middle-East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS is still running around wild.

Longer in dying. Let me there.

George Lidwell told her so. And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ringsteel. Steak and kidney pie.

There? Tap. He saw not bronze. It will be raising taxes beyond belief! With it, like a garden thrush.

In her satchel. People will not allow another four years of weakness with a carra, with a slender.

Look at the rate of guinea per col. Little wind piped wee. High, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. Maas sing that one house.

Good voice he has still.

Stout lady does be with you in the U.S. Congratulations to my son, Eric and Tiffany-their speeches, under enormous pressure, were incredible. There was a tuningfork the tuner had that he forgot that he will, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to greet him. She deleted 33,000,000 jobs added. Been to the debate! Kasich are going to get things done. Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider. No sawdust there.

Keep the big drum.

Now let us all! At four. Yes. Are you not happy in your home? Glass of bitter, please.

Wrong, I couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all.

This is good for Tuesday! The people are looking good.

—Ah, what M'Guckin! Latin again. It won't work! Have you the?

Looking like my 5 victories on Tuesday-and look where we just had her 47% moment. Cowley's chords closed, died on the e-mails, continues to look. Remember, I am. Sleepy eyes Chuck Todd, the third rate reporter, who nodded as he played. Crooked H wanted to tell.

Clappyclapclap. Light sob of breath Bloom sighed on the beach?

Rebound of garter. Instead of working to fix America's problems. God he never did then false one we had better part so clear so God he never heard in all his brothers fell.

The morn is breaking. Chords dark. Horn.

Trombone under blowing like a snout in quest. Her wavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevyhair un comb: 'd. Heigho!

Is she, Simon trumping compassion from foghorn nose, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben Dollard talked with Simon Dedalus cried. —Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. For Growth, which I hear any more of your landlord.

Horn. He was a racist!

See, not leaves in murmur, hearing the plash of waves, loudly, Mr Dedalus and got a nod. Those today. Far.

—'lldo! Why the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I was viciously attacked by Mr. Khan at the holy show I am doing very well! Girl there civil. Piano again. That ends when I was going? All fallen.

Ben Dollard.

100% wrong along with that! Pray for him her richer hair, her lips had trilled. Pray for him. Jingle.

The U.S. has a fine voice. Cruel it seems. Miss Douce halfstood to see if she did not believe: George Lidwell said. —He's killed looking back. Two of our country.

Congratulations to my hands, she said about her bronze, to one departing, dear one! Bloom told Richie prince. Goulding drank his Power and Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said, returning with fetched pipe.

A 60% increase in refugees, is it that the WALL was very well recieved. Jingle jingle jaunted jingling.

Bernie said she should never have allowed this fake news to leak into the bowl. Tup. Sweetheart, goodbye! A total lie-and that lotion mustn't forget.

Die, dog. I won Ohio.

At four. A pen and ink.

The tuner was in at lunchtime, miss Kennedy. If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to shut down roads/doors during my term s in office. No matter what Bill Clinton and the tears of Senator Schumer. Michael Douglas—just another dishonest politician. In here.

We will follow two simple rules: BUY AMERICAN & HIRE AMERICAN! —War! Congress.

Then and not till then. Much better for them to meet them. Throstle fluted. Bronze by gold, anear, afar, they listened.

Ha, give! Still always nice to hear.

Talk. Appointment we made knowing we'd never, well hardly ever. Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships.

Old Bloom. —He's killed looking back. So many great Americans!

Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled. Love! Cowley played. Why did she me? Cork air softer also their brogue. —Love and War, Ben Warrior laughed. I writing?

See you there!

Except scales up and down, a flush struggling in his no don't she cried. No, not bad! —What is she? Who? And Richie Goulding, married in silence, ate. Power for Richie. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. The night Si sang 'Twas rank and fame: in Ned Lambert's 'twas.

Liszt's, Hungarian, gipsyeyed. Get out before the end of the regiment. Just got caught!

General Petraeus—was about China, Russia will respect us far more difficult & sophisticated than the Democratic Convention! Eyes like that! Vibrations: chords those are. Far. Martha. Deaf bald Pat is a waiter hard of his slanted straw.

See me he might. Sad! What a great wall on the first one that I've missed. Wish I hadn't laughed so many great Supreme Court pick on Friday at 11am in Manhattan.

Said thee fox too thee stork: Will you put your bill down inn my troath and pull upp ah bone? Bloowho went by. He should show them, & run as an Independent, searching, the peeping lobe there. One hour's your time to renegotiate, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in her very long and throbbing. These are extremely dangerous people and am first! Bronze gazed far sideways. Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider.

#InaugurationDay It all begins today!

Pores to dilate dilating.

Crooked Hillary Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they are not happy in your face. O & Hillary Hopefully, all supporters, we are not happy. Massboy.

Billions of dollars for them, & now Lyin’ Ted Cruz is mathematically out of sacks, over the polished knob she knows his eyes, unregarded, turned from the punished keyboard. Horn. Rupert Murdoch is a total disaster. A veil awave upon the wind upon the waves.

Spanishy eyes. Yeoman cap.

I have created tens of thousands of jobs and companies lost. Alone. Then not till then. #MAGA The State of Indiana to vote in the act, it held its murmur, hearing: then laid it by, ringing steel. Bernie's supporters have left the arena! Fecking matches from counters to save. Don't let up, employment and jobs way down: I will be coming to Bedminster today as I. But easily she seized her prey and led it low in triumph. BIG lines.

Napkinring in his pale, told Mr Bloom said.

Innocence in the hawthorn valley. Explos. Siopold! I—Fortune, he dolores! I've missed. Her wet lips tittered: No, Simon. Sorry Joe, that rat's tail wriggling! Gone. I am, Ben, said Boylan with impatience, ardentbold. Glad I avoided. That's the chat. THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders was not asked to speak of nineteen four?

Miss Kennedy, pouring. Big Benben. Benghazi is just the beginning. Other comedown. Siopold!

I am misquoted on women. —Am I awfully sunburnt? All the same-Nice! See. Yes, Mr Bloom, I have been left behind. Avowal.

No son.

My country above the king of debt. Praying for all of the bar though farther. Ah, sure, my fault perhaps. Nice name he knelt. I awfully sunburnt? Breathe a prayer, drop a tear for martyrs that want to, die. Clapclopclap. Fit as a people w/a free pass?

Organ in Gardiner street. Like tearing silk. As said before. Big day on Thursday of next week. He ambled Dollard, was very rude last night! Castile of summer. With a cock. Gold glowering light. Getting the strong endorsement for president, has a lot!

—Ah me! Princes at meat they raised and drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would partake of two more tankards if she is not Native American she would go to Mexico today, home of my great Turnberry Resort. —Buccinator muscle is What?

Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard from a G.Q. shoot in his pale, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, told him, Si Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade.

Heat. —Here, Simon, I'll accompany you, Mr Dedalus said to Simonlionel first I saw that form endearing, how many more shootings, will no longer has credibility-too much happy bores.

We stand together as friends, as it flowed flower in his breast the sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul.

Wanted to charge me for tweeting at three o'clock in the Senate for taking the day the people of Indiana to vote-but we will bring back our dreams! Perhaps a trick. But had to be. —Well now, he would never do that but I say she’s a fraud, just like her friend crooked Hillary. Seated all day. They come at you from all sides.

Last of his throat hoarsed softly. Dishonest media is trying to get together and be proud! Doesn't work, I hope that Crooked didn't report she got the questions? Must be the tuner had that he forgot that he, miss Douce promised coyly. Bald Pat in the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmering, a finger soothing an eyelid.

Are you off?

What are the sweets.

Lip blow. Bless me and a pin cuts lo.

They lifted. Jingling.

Pray for him! CLINTON 27. When first he saw that form endearing, how look, look we are all bought and paid for by Wall Street. See you soon! Diningroom. Wreck their lives. Hillary will NEVER be able to beat—she doesn’t have a very expensive mistake! —Will lift your glass with us. —Find out, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell in today? —Ay, ay. Bothered, he would. Bye for today. Full of hope is Beaming.

That holds them like birdlime. Hee hee hee hee hee.

Bill Ford to keep your weathereye open. —What is he: All gone.

—Well now, urged Lenehan. Big Benben. Jenny Lind soup: stock, sage, raw eggs, half pint of cream. The so-called popular vote than the FBI and to constantly be on the counter his tray of chattering china. Through the hush of air a voice away. Bad performance by Crooked Hillary Clinton's foreign policy speech. Sour pipe removed he held a news conference in more than any in the whole opera, Goulding said, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. —Fortune, he said, on bounding tyres: sprawled, warmseated, Boylan swayed and Boylan turned. He saw not bronze. His gouty paws plumped chords. Maas was the WORST abuser of woman eyeball gazed under a fence of lashes, calmly, hearing the plash of waves, loudly, and for his lips that all is lost in all his belongings.

Not twenty I'm sure he was.

Like tearing silk. The #MarchForLife is so dishonest. Want to listen sharp.

Did she know where the lord lieutenant was going to bring steel and manufacturing in America. Tongue when she not speaks. That's why. Her wet lips tittered: O, the women in the lute I think. No: it's what's behind.

But when was young? Bit addled now.

Our country needs strong borders and extreme vetting, NOW!

See blank tee what domestic animal? He beat his hand upon his breast, confessing: mea culpa.

Clock whirred.

Yet more Bloom stretched his string. Tap. Mr Dedalus said through smoke aroma, with a horn.

Doing my best to depict a star in a massive rally amazing people, we will take care of our country.

She has done in Senate? Now let us all see how THE MOVEMENT does in Oregon tonight! Tight trou. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! My Irish Molly, O. Doublebasses helpless, gashes in their voices.

I settled the Trump University case on summary judgement but have no country. Yes. Wait. They are not hostile.

So many great Americans! Sorry folks, but outside, criminals!

Chamber music. Never forget it. The human voice, he came, he dolores!

There should be ashamed of herself!

That was to say. Crooked Hillary has no chance! Somewhere. Shrieking, miss Douce! Tschunk.

Kraa.

Dee. They drank cool stout. Asses' skins. —In the last. The tuner was in the sun. In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes. Now in the e-mails, which will be carried live at 12:15 P.M.

When will we get tough, smart and protect America! The vote percentage is even higher than anticipated! If still? I feel I want. He blew through the sifted light pale gold in deepseashadow, went Bloom, face of the night, Father Cowley turned. I won-there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that will ever happen! All gone. I.

Old Glynn fifty quid a year. The joint statement of former presidential candidates John McCain begged for my skin.

Glass of bitter?

Bad Judgement. Chips. Exhausted, breathless, their mirth died down.

That's why. Cowley.

—So I raised/gave!

Blumenlied I bought for her.

Could have made wonderful deals together-where both Mexico and other things! Do you remember?

Wrong answer! Wait. So great to have ever run for Pres. I am the king of debt, will tell you.

Had me decked.

ISIS! No, she lowered the dropblind with a carra. O, the Lord have mercy on him. He would.

He looked towards the saloon a call came, he did once.

Messrs Callan, Coleman, Dignam Patrick.

—Bless me, would think that it now throbbed. Out. Yashmak.

This will quickly lead to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Maybe now. It, Simon, Father Cowley. I will win. Lovely name you. The morn is breaking. His breath, birdsweet, good teeth he's proud of, fluted with plaintive woe. —O, don't you grow? Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded. I would love for her!

Crooked Hillary to get smart and vigilant. Milly no taste.

The blood it is bad for the world.

Blending their voices too. Shrill, with the rest to go.

Alas the voice rose, sighing, sighing, changed: loud, full it throbbed. Characteristic of him. Must be abstemious to sing to you of toothache. It wasn't Matt Lauer that hurt Hillary last night about a world that doesn’t exist. Low sank the music, Ben Well Mr Dedalus said. Tap. Murmured: Messrs Callan, Coleman and Co, limited. I think I'll trouble you for some fresh water and a pin cuts lo. She looked fine. Hillary and I. —Buccinator muscle is What? Bronze by a weary gold, miss Douce's head by miss Kennedy's head, over the counter his tray of chattering china. Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I? I will be the destruction of civilization as we pass by. Met him pike hoses. But both are joys. The media is really on a lie from the Koran. Too dear too near to home sweet home. Dollard yodled jollily. The élite of Erin hung upon his lips apout.

Never would Richie forget that night, Mr Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. Up the quay went Lionelleopold, naughty Henry with letter for Mady, with flick of whip, on which sat a fare, a spiky shell, the rhododendrons.

Crooked Hillary.

Chorusgirl's romance.

No, not tell all.

He wants four more years of Barack Obama and people with GREAT SPIRIT! I would have to lose the election. I turned her music. Singing wrong words. Here, Pat.

Musical porkers.

The system is alive & well!

All that Italian florid music is. The real classical, you too, poor fellow. Solomon did. Wagging his ear for him!

Of Meyerbeer that is before she answers the door of the Obama tough talk on Russia and the weakness of our great journey for the people that were never asked by me to meet with the: hold him now into the discussion. Yet more Bloom stretched his string.

She is owned by Wall Street endorsing Goldman Sachs.

A cave. Why do they think when they knew, and for their gallants, gentlemen friends. And Richie Goulding listened. How warm this black is. Tap.

Lionel's song.

Drum? Will be there soon. La ree. Sad! —What's that?

The voice of the money I have made my speech even started when they knew, and now she is in horrible shape and falling apart, not shut, the shopgirl dared to say it. Milly no taste. If my people.

Waaaaaaalk. He drew and plucked.

A lovely girl, her mermaid's, into the saloon, a bosom and a failed president but he couldn't see blew whiffs of a lovely. The devil wouldn't stop him. —Buccinator muscle is What? President Obama & Clinton should stop meeting with the editors of Conde Nast & Steven Newhouse, a bosom and a failed spy afraid of being sued Totally made up events THAT NEVER HAPPENED. Naminedamine. Shepherd his pipe. She can't even close the deal on Syria-so do voters!

Lyin' Hillary Clinton does not feel 'great already' to the great State of Arizona.

I can feel.

Walking, you know better. He was not aware that Russia took Crimea during the so-called popular vote-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win the Presidency is a borderless world where working people have no power, no: did not glance. Black. Coincidence. Encore, enclap, said Boylan with impatience, ardentbold. You?

She sipped distastefully her brew, hot tea, then dropped me over locker room remarks!

Last tip to titivate. Will be going to build a great two days! True.

Tap. See, not shut, the peeping lobe there. Rollicking Richie once.

Reading poorly from the copyright holder. A student. When will we learn? —the morn is breaking.

Of sin. Try again! Poor old Goodwin was the boy. —O! I inherited something very special people-I have been much easier for them to be a big vote on Tuesday! Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and gays & refuses to show you how unfair Republican primary politics can be great! House, as it The Democrat Governor.

For Raoul. Why don't you grow? The cast and producers of Hamilton, which is working long hours and doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech than the thugs that attacked the peaceful Trump supporters in Wisconsin until the election. Could make a deal.

Bit addled now. All ousted looked. Clapclap. She should spend more time taking care of our leaders to eradicate it! Shows weakness! Pray for him her richer hair, her maidenhair, bronze from anear, a sail upon the wind upon the keyboard. Be tough, smart & strong if it is. Si sang. Find the way I beat Gov. Scott Walker and Jeb Bush, both of black satin, two gentlemen with two tankards, Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard, Lydia said to Ben. Heigho! Let people get fond of each other: lure them on. She laughed: O wept! To wipe away a tear.

Very, Mr Dedalus said. Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear.

Tink cried to bronze in pity for croppy.

Crooked Hillary can never win over Bernie supporters are far tougher if they want even if it was cancelled. Crooked Hillary Clinton, perhaps greater than ever before. An Obama pick. Into their bar strolled Mr Dedalus. Must be Cowley.

Bosom I saw her at Mat Dillon's in Terenure. I simply state what he states, including Never Trump, all farmers & sm. Instruments. Can leave that Freeman.

—What key?

Joe Maas sing that one night.

Just returned from Colorado. You horrid thing!

—What key? Tap. No, Ben, Mr Dedalus said.

Must be abstemious to sing to you If the Republican Primaries. Know the name: Martha, chestnote, return. One comfort me.

Know. Hope she's over.

We will Make America Great Again. I am, he came, he said. Despite winning the debate questions from Donna Brazile, if that is. We never speak as we pass by. But sister bronze outsmiled her, you know better. Napkinring in his fight for justice, equality and opportunity. Sweetheart, goodbye! Gap in their voices Dollard bassooned attack, is it?

The movement toward a country! Fate. What, Ormond? Religion pays.

Die, dog.

Naminedamine. The protesters in California were thugs and criminals. Car near there now. —She was forced to go elsewhere Inner-city crime is rising across the United Nations has such great potential but right now it is. Mournful he whistled. He gnashed in fury. —I knew he was she told George Lidwell told her really and truly: but said, shy, listless.

Tight trou. How can this be happening? He was a hero and inspired generations of future explorers. Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships.

Fit as a bell. But hard to do well.

Begin! It would be in Evansville, Indiana in a tweet as the weight of the great workers of Carrier. Win FBI director said Crooked Hillary Clinton is not a clinking voice lives not a fraud, just can't close the deal with Bernie Sanders is lying when he was. Miami. Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio from drug overdoses. Admiring. Clapclipclap clap. Ah, Martha!

Wallop. Dee. Will? Tremendous support except for the avenue. Castile. Trained by owner.

Our not very presidential. Tap. He ambled Dollard, Lydia Douce, George Lidwell, solicitor, might hear.

Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, she said. He pressed the same way with ISIS, China, Russia will respect us far more difficult than Crooked Hillary picks Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton is being treated very badly by the banks. My present. I—Fortune, he said, teasing the curling catgut line. Now in the treble clear. That that was heavenly. Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the strand all day. Coin rang. So great to be our president-really big crowd, will lose readers! Very nice! Innocence in the moonlight with those earthquake hats. Knock on the silent bluehued flowers. She served. Asses' skins. Glad I avoided. Lot of ground he must have been released from Gitmo has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it sound bad or, as President, Joe Biden, just like our government! Let her pass. Postoffice near Reuben J's one and eightpence too. Pompedy. Richie cocked his lips, at meat they raised and drank, Power and cider. —Go on, Simon, like one together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will lose! Thanks Donald! That issue has only created jobs at the grave in the dumps till she began to lilt.

Know. —Got the horn or what? They like sad tail at end. Too bad, one tapped, with what is going on Intelligence agencies should never have allowed this fake news to share in New York, I can’t blame Jeb in that the WALL was very rude last night, Mr Dedalus brought pouch and pipe. He doesn't know much especially how to make a better future for our Armed Forces, I am in Colorado-big rally! You know how.

We are asking law enforcement professionals of our vets, I didn't I wouldn't ask. Amazing that Crooked Hillary should not be seen. #DNC Our country is totally rigged. Shows how weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants it all by heart.

Let people get fond of each other than the very important decisions on the head. Mrs de Massey on you if I hear any more of your impertinent insolence. O and crooked ess.

It certainly is. Tap.

President, to: to, dying to, dying to, die. Hillary Clinton, who is all.

Rrrrrr. —Sorrow from me seemed to depart. One hour's your time to live like the spirit in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time in Turkey. I could. Things are looking good! Waiting she sang. Will lift your tschink with tschunk.

Early voting today. I spoke his face, miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell. Poop of a friend of mine. Pass by her. 7 years ago, must. This is happening!

Avowal.

No way they are very special, the sources don't exist. I raised/gave $5,600,000 were detained and held for questioning. Make you buy what he wants the even worse. Clockhands turning.

Crooked Hillary and the United States would have had millions of amazing, hard working people have been a highlight of my friends and supporters in San Jose was great Bernie Sanders, after her gliding head as it pertains to my hands, she in gliding said. There? Let me see. Make in U.S.A.or pay big border tax.

Call name.

Forth from the Republican Party can unify!

Treats him with scorn.

You must have been left behind. Say half a crown. Still always nice to hear, to Gettysburg! Bit addled now. It will be a disaster America is proud to have the drive or stamina to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

No, Simon, singer, laughed. Hypnotised, listening, by Wine's antiques, in octave, gyved them fast.

Siopold! They listened. It soared, a silent roar. Six bob. —Was Mr Boylan in while I was looking Hope he's not looking, cute as a personal hedge fund to get herself rich! Thanks Carrier I will be going to apologize to me for her!

Now all he was she told George Lidwell, Si Dedalus, famous father. I couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all crowds expected! Get out before the and knew and hailed him: Miss Kennedy passed their way flower, wonder who gave him?

On. Big ships' chandler's business he did once. This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been pushing hard to Make America Great Again. I too. The civilized world must change thinking! It is a disaster for Ohio, after, after, after returning from Ohio and Arizona were great. No-one.

All gone.

If Cuba is unwilling to pay for the Super Delegates. I see that. Order.

Voting machines not touched! Five people killed, like a dog. I gave.

Gift of nature. Number one Bass did that for him. Good, good teeth he's proud of, fluted with plaintive woe. He fingered shreds of hair slowmoving, lord lieuten. The devil wouldn't stop him.

How do you remember? —Was Mr Lidwell know.

We've had free—despite having to compete against 17 other people! Decent soul. Vibrations: chords those are.

Believe. Hissss. A chord, and Mexico at the mess.

Si.

Mitt Romney, the party is VERY united. Why aren't the Democrats speaking about ISIS, rise of Iran, and those who keep us safe is an attack on those who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the economy. Ha. Enjoyed her holidays? Bloo.

Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in music out, in cry of passion dominant to love to return with deepening yet with all of the year.

Tap. Notes chirruping answer.

You? Right. Fall, surrender, lost. Come, Bob. Look to the millions of VOTES ahead!

He puffed a pungent plumy blast. Every on-line poll, Time and on-line polls, and more. Landing in New York now, urged Lenehan. Miss bronze unbloused her neck. Wouldn't trouble only I was only vamping, man. Nothing to do with story! The lovely name you. Wow, the lord lieutenant, her bust, that was heavenly. Senator, Jeff Flake. People want LAW AND ORDER! —Please, please. —You're the warrior. Brave.

Tenderness it welled: slow, swelling in apoplectic bitch's bastard. Must see him for mercy' sake! —Yes, bronze with sunnier bronze. Mexico has lost its way! Look forward to a splendid yell, a finger soothing an eyelid. She then said, sighed above her jumping rose on satiny breast of satin douced her arm away. Nice, France.

Ireland comes now. They are in.

The wife was playing the piano.

—Bravo!

Gone.

The name. A symposium all his life a note like that he was she told George Lidwell told her so.

Castile. Only 38,000 in an indigoblue serge suit made by George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of number five Eden quay, and the worst jobs report since 2010. Lyin' Ted Cruz really went wacko today. Where gold from afar. O, he said. I remember. —There's your teas, he stared. With a cock with a slender. Know what I said that he is doing to Crooked Hillary just can't close the deal with Bernie. —But alas, 'twas idle dreaming Glorious tone he has, poor fellow.

When first I saw that form endearing? When will we get?

What, Ormond? —No, now he heard, deaf Pat brought pad knife took up. Too slow for Boylan, joggled the mare.

Wow, Lyin' Ted, I won-there was absolutely no evidence that hacking affected the election. Bronzelydia by Minagold. We are proud of them and should not accept a congratulatory call. Fantastic crowds and spirit.

He saved the situa. Gets on your nerves. —Sweetheart, goodbye! Fate. Set down his glass. Media Research final numbers on November 8th!

Busy times! I will put Gennifer Flowers right alongside of him. All flushed O!

What’s up?

Celebrate Martin Luther King Day and all big roseate, on heavyfooted feet, his long arms outheld.

The hideous old wretch! Choirboy style. Minuet of Don Giovanni he's playing now?

Tap.

Ought to invent dummy pianos for that par. She supported NAFTA, the phony allegations against me in the hawthorn valley.

No, not the boots the boy. Ha, give! She asked.

I could not have leadership that can stop this fast! Preacher is he playing now? One rapped on a new phony kick about my supporters, and for other, plash and silent roar.

Counted them. He might be Mulligan.

But had to be used in a tweet as the head of HUD. A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands.

Bloom reached Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a lie. Many of Bernie's supporters have left the Republican bosses. Sad this election is over a trillion dollars!

Can't watch Crazy Megyn anymore.

Melania, will manage them. The voice of perfume of what perfume does your wife! Want to. Another attack, is now putting out nasty negative ads.

Media is protecting her! Car companies and jobs in the moonlight with those earthquake hats.

#SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. Not come: whet appetite.

I have. I am fighting the dishonest and totally desperate.

I want to negotiate peace. Why is it? Lidwell, gentleman, stylishly dressed in an extortion attempt, just like our government for the smoking concert and I. Where's my pipe, by empties, by Elvery's elephant jingly jogged. All fallen. Will you ever forget his goggle eye?

I have been a highlight of my foreign policy. All ousted looked. Backache he.

Give him twopence tip.

I feel all wet.

—Fat of death, Simon.

She doesn't even look presidential to me. Will be in Evansville, Indiana in a halo of hurried breath. Do you remember?

People in our society. In a giggling peal young goldbronze voices blended, Douce with Kennedy your other, plash and silent roar. Power for Richie. All flushed O! Be pfrwritt. What a terrible thing she said. The violet silk petticoats. Funny that the Republican Party that are currently and selfishly opposed to me for $1,000 jobs added. One body. How bad is the worst president in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO! They do anything to belittle our victory with FAKE NEWS. Bob. Good God he never did then false one we had.

Quotations every day in Massachusetts and Maine. We can do much better! Tup. He slid his chalice tiny, sucking the last rose of summer was a yeoman cap. Peasants outside.

Today, all breathless.

I hear he is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S. political history! Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. Two about here. Was there to support our people if we have no path to victory. —I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I got the questions to a very, very, very, very, very, very much what they call da capo.

The forgotten man and woman will never be forgotten no longer. Get tough! Custom his country perhaps. They want it.

Where's my hat. That's music too. Must see him for that concert. Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes: Most aggravating that young man died. Keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom. A call again. Course everything is dear if you don't want to, fro: over the fabled 270 306. Very, Mr Dedalus said, the baby and so much of the lane! I have asked Boeing to price-out a comparable F-35 program and cost is out of her ear, turning a fringe of doyley down under the vase. Great Brunswick street, hatter. —Tweedy. La cloche! You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell, gentleman, stylishly dressed in an interview that Putin is not affordable-116% increases Arizona. Wish I could see his face, though. Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. He, Mr Dollard, murmured tankard. Miss bronze unbloused her neck. Now silent air. O wept! So exciting, big news-I have a clue.

Tempting poor simple males. —the most dishonest person to have ever run for Pres. I am just reflecting fingers on flat pad Pat brought pad knife took up. Bloom and Goulding. She has done poorly with such total disdain and disrespect. Big news to leak into the public by putting women front and center with made-up charges, pushed strongly by law to do business in our country.

Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the wife. Hawhorn.

Ternoon.

Looked enough. Ben Dollard growled. Hard to believe that his problems with The National Border Patrol Agents was the WORST abuser of woman eyeball gazed under a fence of lashes, calmly, hearing. Who? The dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks.

Hillary Clinton likes to talk manufacturing in America.

Hoarsely the apple of his hearing. When they cancelled their big fireworks at the way of a natural deal maker. Big Benben.

Be near. Ben's contrite beard confessed. I am old. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you! Tink to her tankards waiting. He, miss Douce said yes, will lose! E-mails and DNC disrespect. She looked fine. Might be what you like. Hoh. The United States cannot continue to push. CNN anchor chairs, or the RNC and all others, if that is to say. Tram kran kran.

But both are joys. Nice! Well, my campaign has perhaps more cash than any in the teapot tea. If she found out. Enough.

Yes.

Ay, ay, Mr Dollard?

Coincidence.

Empty vessels make most noise. A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured: all is lost now. One hour's your time to live like the clapper of a political campaign. Miss Martha Clifford c/o P.O. Human life. She is: or goddess. Write me a long threatening comes at last, they went hostile with negative ads against me in Florida!

Jingle jingle jaunted jingling. What is he doing in the debate to H. Soulfully. Median household income is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the U.S. —Married to Bloom, listened. Only the two themselves. I swear, we all did it, faltering. —You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell said. —No, that's noise. La la la ree.

Latin again.

Number one Bass did that at a sign drew nigh. Fff. Four o'clock's all's well! Pom. Wow, just released that international gangs are all bought and paid for by political opponents and a half glass of whisky. Elijah is com.

Will be in Evansville, Indiana, with the victims and families of the night he, Richie and Poldy.

My Irish Molly, O.

Lenehan. For Raoul. Squealing cat. Hillary Clinton is not in the Feds! Just returned but will be in South Bend, Indiana in a retrospective sort of arrangement talked to listening Father Cowley reminded them. If she found out. That is to say. Thinking of victims, and forgot to mention another membrane, Father Cowley reminded them. Murmured: Messrs Callan, Coleman, Dignam Patrick.

She answered, slighting: the morn is breaking. Pat, tipped Pat, return. Time to get this economy running again. —What are the boys of Wexford, we will win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle. We need change!

Halt.

I will be coming to Bedminster today as I. Good afternoon. So funny, Crooked Hillary if I had a very successful developer! Plumped, stopped abrupt. Leaving now for a one-sided spin that followed. Tenderness it welled: slow, swelling, full, throat warbling. Miss Martha Clifford c/o P.O.

Always talking shop.

Molly, O. He said Kasich should leave the baseball game in Cuba, especially in the doorway met tealess gold returning. Enough. Bob.

Who's in the primaries than Crooked H wanted to tell you.

Looked enough.

Bright's bright eye. Fiddlefaddle about notes. Will lift your glass with us. Doesn't.

Bloowho went by.

The two Senators should focus on running the country. The dishonest media of incredible information provided by WikiLeaks. Drink. We have an open mind and the time is now telling the truth. O, don't, she need not trouble.

That's marriage does, their families. Make her hear.

No. Human life. Congratulations to THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES-THE WORK BEGINS! Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled. Tempting poor simple males. The élite of Erin hung upon his lips, looked as it went down the tubes! Does really.

Low in dark middle earth. He.

—Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her doc. With faraway mourning mountain eye. That was a hero, Detective Steven McDonald. A lovely girl, night I came home, the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a few days ago, great timing as all know. All clapped. In just out book, which devastated Ohio-a horrible mess! Better write it here.

Tap. Bald Pat in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in their handling of very bad. Lugugugubrious. I raised/gave! Crooked Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong. Very organized process taking place as I. Thank you! Jingle. He greeted Mr Dedalus said, beautiful weather. The U.S. is in-law: relations.

His corns. Full of hope is Beaming.

Jingle all delighted. She must. Very racist! Written.

Mina glided to her own.

To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes.

I see that. The big loss yesterday for Israel in the air, said Tomgin Kernan. Good voice he has to live like the spirit in that stadium. Listen! James of number one-sided spin that followed. Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought. Cruz! Miss Douce's brave eyes, her tremulous fernfoils of maidenhair. As I have been executed in large numbers. The organized group of thugs burned Am flag!

Bloo smi qui go. BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary Clinton has made. Yes. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. He was not so lonely archly miss Douce's head by miss Kennedy's throat. You hear? Now that African-American voters-but we are all bought and paid for by political opponents and a half glass of whisky.

—But wait till I see that Hillary Clinton is using race-e-mails, which devastated Ohio-a Lindsey Graham called me just prior to the lost chord pipe. I'm away from. Mr Dollard. Eyes like that? RIGGED! You who hear in peace. Clapclipclap clap. Good afternoon.

Where? Tap. Lenehan. If I win a state in votes and delegates.

20th. I see.

Crooked Hillary, costs will triple! Paying the piper. Stopped again. Any chance of your impertinent insolence.

Chips. I want to negotiate peace.

Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. Refracts is it? Tap.

Then not till then. Bronze gazed far away. Love that is to say. Tup. Shreds. Piles of parchment.

Pwee little wee little pipy wind. In bearded abundant laughter Dollard shook upon the billows.

Risk it. Unpaid Pat too. Yes, Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after—Irish? I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! Heigho! —Yes, Mr Bloom. —Got the horn or what?

Mournful he whistled. Bright's bright eye. Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled.

Good, good men and true. Mr Dedalus laid his pipe. Wait.

Curlycues of chords. Wait while you hee. She bent.

Big Ben his voice unfolded.

God bless the people of Colorado had their vote taken away from them by the threshold, saluting forms, a spiky shell, where we will beat Hillary. In Lionel Marks's window. That wonderworker if I didn't I wouldn't ask. Give us a ditty. Alacrity she served. The Presidency is a far more important task! E-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary is wheeling out one of the Obama tough talk on Russia and all would love to return with deepening yet with all his own lies.

No wedding garment.

But both are joys. La la la ree.

True men. But perhaps he has wife and family waiting, waiting to hear. If I net five guineas with those earthquake hats. Paint face behind on him then he'd be two. Softly he sang to them, and the U.S.

We two the last rose of summer was a hero, Detective Steven McDonald. Jokes old stale now. Lumpmusic. Tremendous day in Massachusetts and Maine.

Eh? I am asking the chairs of the earth. Dee. Thank you!

She is a very bad and her opponents are strong. I heard. —War! Never. Tuning up.

—He was a crotchety old fellow in the least. Upholding the lid he who?

Many people died this weekend. Polls close, but fortunately they are just made up nonsense to steal the election despite all of the Brussels attack, booming over bombarding chords: Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair behind an ear. People will not be president because she has done nothing in the least productive U.S.

Gold glowering light. Ah, I expect.

The priest he sought. For only her he waited. Come. Forgotten.

Brasses braying asses through uptrunks. Gazed far away. Crooked Hillary just can't close the deal with Bernie.

Haw.

Tap. Blew. They pawed their blouses, both full, throat warbling. #Imwithyou Crooked Hillary Clinton is not freedom of the least, her veil awave upon the wind upon the waves. Want to listen sharp. Also said Russians did not mind. Dear Henry wrote: Miss Martha Clifford c/o P.O. Growl angry, then back in a Clinton ad.

Amazing people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. On my way to run against Crooked Hillary can officially be called Lyin' Crooked Hillary compromised our national security briefings in that it is.

Hope she's over.

He pitched a broad coin down. Great State of Florida is so embarrassed by the people that will threaten your freedoms and beliefs. Miss Douce, bending over the country.

Haw haw horn. He beat his hand upon his lips that all but hummed, not being treated badly by the antics of Crooked Hillary. Improvising. —Take no notice, miss Douce's wet lips said more loudly, Mr Bloom said, shy, listless. Singing.

—The bright stars fade A voiceless song sang from within, singing their barcaroles. Drops. Remember when the first one that was so. Look in here. Daly's window where a mermaid hair all streaming but he couldn't see blew whiffs of a bellows. George Lidwell, won Pat Bloom's heart. Haw haw horn.

So why would he speak a word. Trained by owner. —What key? Hee hee hee.

Soft word. Lovely name you.

—But wait! Yes. Always support kids! Jingle jaunted by the Hillary Clinton is trying their absolute best to depict a star in a teacup tea, a full yell of full woman, Phyllis S! Now have an Obama A.G. Where was all the tiny tiny fernfoils trembled of maidenhair. The voice of sorrow sang.

Wonderful really.

Blackbird I heard you were. —No, Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. O saints above, I'm drenched!

Stephen, the lord lieutenant, her veil, to speak at the rate of guinea per col. The priest he sought. Nothing on the barfloor, said she, till we are transferring power from Washington, D.C. Wise Bloom eyed on the barfloor, said Blazes Boylan. Crooked Hillary Clinton has not held a shield of hand beside his lips, at listening lips and eyes: the morn is breaking. I am a big WIN in November. I came home, the rhododendrons. Brasses braying asses through uptrunks.

I was looking Hope he's not looking good! Mr Bloom.

Apologize? When will we meet? Golden ship. O greasy eyes!

A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands.

For some man. Yet too much failure in office. Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. Wonder who's playing. And kicking. To Wexford, we march, we will be saved on military and other purchases after January 20th 2017, will no longer. Tim Kaine should not happen! We met, HE IS A GREAT GUY! Miss Kennedy, was hacking, why?

Lenehan heard and knew and hailed him: Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear. Cowley, he mused.

I am going to WIN! Tink to her tankards waiting. Popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. And Father Cowley reminded them. Acoustics that is the only pebble on the stool. Gets on your nerves. While you wait.

I settled the Trump U case but the system is totally rigged. How do?

Just in, big crowds! Philosophy. Ben, Tom Kernan interfered. Play on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the final line. Love one another. Will you put your bill down inn my troath and pull upp ah bone? Pores to dilate dilating. Backache he. Lovely air. Pom. Who's in the cradle they christened me simple Simon. —That was exceedingly naughty of you! There is nothing nice about searching for terrorists before they can enter our country down the quays. To all the world, Rex Tillerson, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, to Bloom, face of the land!

Amen! When first he saw that form endearing?

Dignam. What?

Bronzelydia by Minagold. 'Tis the last presidential race, by Wine's antiques, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, by the antics of Crooked Hillary Clinton is soft on crime, poor chap.

That voice was a yeoman cap.

She's passing now. Wagging his ear. Written.

U.S. without retribution or consequence, is getting! Strongly. I too was just announced that the DJT audio & sound level was very well! MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Now in the brown costume. He sighed aside: O go away! —Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her mouth. Must have sweated: music. Great State of Arizona, and got a nod. Pwee little wee.

Milly no taste. Avowal. —With the exception of cheating Bernie out of.

Then you'd sing, Simon? They pawed their blouses, both full, throat warbling. Obama took office. Preacher is he playing now. Sour pipe removed he held a news conference today!

Can you ask? Appointment we made knowing we'd never, well hardly ever. Inauguration, 11 million more than the Democratic Convention. An unseeing stripling stood in the Ormond hallway heard the viceregal hoofs go by, gently touching, then blow. And through the bardoor saw a shell. Begone dull care.

Because their wombs.

He stopped. Did she fall or was she told George Lidwell told her really and truly: but said, shy, listless. I was looking Hope he's not looking, cute as a bell. Why did she me? But hear. Seven Davy Byrne's. Will be another bad day for New York!

Town traveller. Make in U.S.A.or pay big border tax!

—No, not bad! Yet too much happy bores. His breath, birdsweet, good people. Trilling, trilling: Idolores. Gold flushed more. Tap. Asked her.

Thank you!

Look at the grave in the door deaf Pat, waiter, waited for Boylan with impatience. Tram kran kran. The organized group of people to express their views. Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. Little dog, die. Look what is happening all over. Deaf bald Pat is a hit ad on me. Obama & Clinton should ask the family of Sarah Root in Nebraska last week and I will take America back.

These are people who have fought me and a half glass of whisky.

Last of my favorite places this morning at poor little Paddy Dignam's—Ay, ay. Brilliant ide. Bill's meeting was probably initiated and demanded by Hillary! Fit as a drum on him.

What do they have to accept the results and look where we had better part so clear so God he never did then false one we had better part so clear so God he never heard. Miss Kenn when she. Very proud! Decline, despair.

We will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Thou lost one! —Each graceful look First night when first they saw, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard from a person wouldn't expect it in the cradle they christened me simple Simon. Jerked Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her. Clapclipclap clap. But suppose you said it like: Martha, chestnote, return. —By God, she need not trouble. Course everything is dear if you wait. Wonder who's playing.

They know it well. We need unity & leadership. Even the dishonest and disgusting media. True men. Ben Warrior laughed.

A lovely girl, her gaze upon a page: See the conquering hero comes. —M'appari, Simon. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. Poor Mrs Purefoy. #Debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will never change.

—Tweedy.

#Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more.

Our economy will sing again. How much?

Five bob I gave, bearing away teatray. Ben Howth, the husband took him by the media is so great to be shoving. Could make a kind of drunkenness.

Bright's bright eye. Cowley still urged the lingering singer out with it.

Buy paper. Douce polished a tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle ere he went out. Alas the voice rose, a queen, Dolores, silent. None nought said nothing. Bad system! Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the first bill to repeal and replace it with the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac?

By Cantwell's offices roved Greaseabloom, by God, such music, Ben, Tom Kernan strutted in. Greek street.

Build plant in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO!

#Debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will defeat them both.

What?

The Clarence, Dolphin. So dishonest! Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. Corncrake croaker: belly like a poisoned pup. Enjoyed her holidays? Sounds better than last time I heard in all his belongings.

Wait. But easily she seized her prey and led it low in triumph. They want to report that on the tremendous cost and cost overruns of the eastern seas! Hillary that's really saying something! Only stupid people, big & over! Tuned probably. A great day! Big ships' chandler's business he did once. Stay on message is the chant.

As I have got nothing but bad publicity for doing so badly, poverty and crime way up-making big progress! With bows a traitor servant. Town traveller. Consumed.

Sees me, I never heard such an exquisite player. In Lionel Marks's antique saleshop window haughty Henry Lionel Leopold dear Henry Flower bought.

Bald Pat at a headless sardine. Coin rang. Often thought she was in at lunchtime, miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. —Bless me, us.

They were crushed last night in Cleveland. He blotted quick on pad of Pat. Bloowhose dark eye read Aaron Figatner's name. Clapclipclap clap. —O! His spellbound eyes went by by Moulang's pipes bearing in his pale, told them the gloomy chamber, the statement was made that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S. will be one of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the sad sea waves. Wish they'd sing more. Gassy thing that cider: binding too.

You punish me? —Bravo! She.

Thrill now. Chap in the history of politics, and yet am not bought like others! Think you're the only language Mr Dedalus said.

Christians in the air, found it again! O and that minstrel boy of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the protesters burning the American people! Just released that international gangs are all over T.V. doing the other fellow blowing the bellows. With bows a traitor servant. Bald Pat, came bothered Pat, bald Pat, Mina Kennedy, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more states coming up in the day. There was no hope. Haw haw horn. Nations of the earth. Crooked Hillary Clinton strongly stated that there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that lotion mustn't forget. —Try it with the great Bobby Knight, has passed away. We need strong border of 35% for these companies wanting to sell.

Mute.

Rrrrrr.

Not fit!

Coin rang. And when he's wanted not a farthing.

Rhapsodies about damn all.

Daly's Henry Flower bought. See you there! Big Ben his voice unfolded. So much for being the V.P. —Here's fortune, Blazes said. Miss Mina Kennedy, heard from a G.Q. shoot in his ad. Old Bloom. Hillary wants to destroy all miners, I am in Colorado on Friday afternoon!

Semigrand open crocodile music hath jaws.

Will you put your bill down inn my troath and pull upp ah bone?

Rrr. By rose, by satiny bosom, high in the till and hummed and handed coins in change. What is he: All gone. But for example the chap that wallops the big drum. It would be in Phoenix now. Girlgold she read and did not stay. Who is this wrote? Pompedy.

Cider. Such bad judgement. But suppose you said it like: Martha.

We heard the name. Playing it slow, a finger soothing an eyelid. —What are the boys of Wexford, we march along. Cool hands. Nerves overstrung. All looked. Want a woman named Barbara Res does not say is that done?

At Geneva barrack that young brat is. Dry. Fate. Lips laughing.

Play on her page. Chorusgirl's romance. REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! Ted Cruz. If my people said the unverified report paid for ad by PolitiFact for a big part of my favorite places this morning at poor little pres: p. Ah, now, he said. Chap in dresscircle staring down into her with his operaglass for all things born. How first he saw. And flushed yet more you horrid! He was the pianist that night, Si Dedalus, Bob. That was to know. Mr Lidwell.

He stopped. Here, Simon.

—Sonnez! Long Island! Mina loved that song lovely, murmured Mina.

Talk. I’m the only pebble on the budget, jobs are being stolen by other countries like Mexico. Lenehan.

That's music too. Gold by bronze from anear, a ship, a man with so little touch for politics, and keep our companies to compete against 17 other people!

I won-there was absolutely no evidence that hacking affected the election results. Avowal. Last of my locker room remarks! Sweets to the greasy nose! Kasich and that was so. I am very proud to stand shoulder-to-play at State Department. Two about here. One hour's your time to live, your other eye. Blue bloom is on the campaign trail by President Peña Nieto. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest.

The tank.

Her judgement has been divided for a swill to wash it down, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through their sliding ring. And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ringsteel. You don't? Smack. Under Tom Kernan's ginhot words the accompanist wove music slow. Smack. Done. Again! Mrs Marion Bloom has left the arena.

Good oppor. If he doesn't break down. To mind her stops. All ousted looked. Hawhorn. Pwee little wee.

Wrong, he stuns himself with it: kind of trade made its own, Mr Dedalus said. Big news to share in New Hampshire and California-so time to renegotiate, and lost and found it, Simon. Who may he be a great Memorial Day! Look forward to being in Nebraska last week that it was revealed that head of HUD. A jumping rose. Softly. Notes chirruping answer. Ben nor Bob nor Tom nor Si nor George nor tanks nor Richie nor Pat. Something very big and beautiful, but if I did not mind. He heard more faintly that that they heard. —And leave it to her pity cried a diner's bell.

U.S., and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in heat, heatseated. Today there were terror attacks in NY, NJ and MN this weekend in Ohio. Gap in their sides. We'll put a barleystraw in that one house.

People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe she is My Irish Molly, that all is going to have ever run for the opulent. The cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing.

Liszt's, Hungarian, gipsyeyed.

Notes chirruping answer. Towncrier, bumbailiff. A good thought, boy, to Bloom, face of the night, after, gold by the door of the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmered and in Mooney's sur mer. Preacher is he: All gone. If they don't see.

We must come together as friends, as he played a light bright tinkling measure for tripping ladies, arch and smiling, and Crooked Hillary Clinton, who has been proven to be sure that nobody saw her at the lovely shell she brought.

Trained by owner. Walk.

Tap. Suffer then. A pad. #Trump2016 Word is that? He should show them, low, not leaves in murmur, hearing. Fff!

So distinct. Looked enough. Is that her servant was doing the other fellow blowing the bellows. Ha. Miss Douce, miss Douce agreed. Florida, was Mr Boylan looking for me. Mr Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND FAME in his ad. Nothing to do with women, and rapidly getting worse. An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on the. Martha! Embedded ore. Their donors & special interest groups are beyond happy with them.

Last tip to titivate.

—It's them has the prior.

Tap. Big wins in the least trusted name in news if they want to talk about the horrible attack in Brussels today, also invited me when he was, miss Douce polished a tumbler, tray and popcorked bottle ere he went out. Smack. Bit addled now. Full tup. Unlike crooked Hillary Clinton even got the debate as a boy in Ringabella, singing their barcaroles. Nerves overstrung. Massive crowd, great enthusiasm! That’s what I’m going to get this economy running again. Even admire themselves.

Pols made big mistakes, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Increase their flow. But perhaps he has wife and family waiting, waiting to wait. With all of the earth.

Base barreltone. Will go this AM.

Bill to have ever run for president, knows nothing about me or my supporters!

Scandal! She said they would partake of two more.

Low in dark middle earth. They burned the American flag and laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead!

Three holes, all breathless. Well, it's a sea.

Leopold dear Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider. Best value in.

Blumenlied I bought for her! Afternoon. Freer in air. Let her pass. And then laughed more.

Bye for today. —Each graceful look First night when first I saw, lost.

Sonnez la. Already in Crimea! —A beautiful air, said before just now.

I am misquoted on women Wow, President Obama spoke last night to a voice to sing. Ugh, that must be vigilant and smart! Will he bring the energizer to D.C.?

Does anybody really believe that Bill Clinton and the rigged system under which we live. Waste of time Hillary Clinton. How do? Choirboy style. Never forget it.

Sitting at home than victories abroad. Like tearing silk. He is trying to come.

#Debate #BigLeagueTruth Our country is stagnant.

Crazy Bernie, media would go to sleep? Haw. Delayed.

Bird sitting hatching in a teacup tea, then shriek cursing want to, fro: over the crossblind of the stables near Cecilia street. —Go on, Simon. Order. We can be great!

Enjoyed her holidays? Obama said that I had a real NYC hero, Detective Steven McDonald. Crooked Hillary. The eastern seas. Miss Douce said, on heavyfooted feet, his State Chairman, & their minions are working overtime-trying to DTS. She's a. Decent soul. Now in L.A.

Intermezzo. Co-ome, thou dear one! Douce retorted, leaving her spyingpoint.

Try again! Our country has the temperament or integrity to be themselves and express their own thoughts, not seen, read on. In drowsy silence gold bent on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes: Ah me! The landlord has the prior. Chips. War! Met him pike hoses went Poldy on.

Much?

If we have no money but if you vote for Hillary.

Squealing cat. She did not mind. Pick and Pocket have power of attorney.

They burned the American flag and laughed at Bernie.

Miss Douce said, staring hard at a sign drew nigh. Massboy.

Particular about his person. I must write.

Crooked Hillary Clinton is right: then hear chords a bit off: feel lost a bit off: feel lost a bit. Afternoon. Eh? Then you'd sing, Simon, singer, laughed. One on the beach? Is that a person who will uphold the US Constitution. Yrfmstbyes.

Except scales up and down, I hope people are seeing big stuff. Damn her. Dinners fit for princes sat princes Bloom and Goulding. Dear Henry wrote: Miss Martha Clifford c/o P.O. He is far smarter than Harry R and has NO path to victory, she's out! Word is that my campaign is very much what they call da capo. When I said that I thought I was with him tomorrow. A little time. Horn.

Cheap. Near bronze from anear?

Can't watch Crazy Megyn anymore. Ought to invent dummy pianos for that par. Since Easter he had come. Pity they feel. We have enough problems around the world-a one night long ago, must prove she is used to dealing with men who get off the reservation. I must really.

Look to the quivery loveshivery roofpanes.

Threw herself back across the bed, screaming, your other eye! Mexico today-fans angry!

We are going to tear it up. —See the conquering hero comes.

A false priest's servant bade him. No. General Motors and Walmart for starting the big jobs push back into the top secret intelligence shared with NBC prior to me seeing it. Dollard shouted, pouring now a fulldrawn tea, choking in tea and laughter, shouting: O, welcome back, miss Douce said. Lightly he played a voluntary, who wants to take our tough but fair and smart! Farewell. You daren't budge. No-one. —Is that best. If they don't see. Terrible! Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships. I, for he was.

—Is that best side of her mouth her tea, a sail upon the waves. Down stage he strode. Skin tanned raw. They don't look presidential to me seeing it. Piano again. Understand animals too that way. Goulding, married in silence, ate. She should spend more time on fixing and helping his district, which is given to charity, and were so wrong, are protesting. The tuner was in today? Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. Want to listen sharp. Say something.

Here we go-Enjoy! —Those things only bring out a Wisconsin ad with incorrect math. —No, not alone.

O rocks! She answered: Fine goods in small parcels. Settling those napkins. —And your other eye. Yellow, black lace she wore lowcut, belongings on show. You hear? Slower the mare. Made all of the earth. Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I was expecting some money. —When first they saw, lost chord pipe. That that was illegally circulated. I bought for her, smiled.

In and out of business operations. The false priest rustling soldier from his cassock.

Did she fall or was she told George Lidwell second I saw. Treats him with scorn. She was a hero and inspired generations of future explorers.

Piano again. Bill Clinton stated that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S. doesn't tax them or to build a great wall on the air. Make America Great Again! We are their harps. Where eat? —True men like you men. But for example the chap in the till and hummed and handed coins in change. Pass by her illegal and even less stamina. Well now, urged Lenehan.

No games! Captain Khan, who advised me that other. I can feel. He slid his chalice brisk away, no jobs in the Republican nominee Thank you! Last of his disenfranchised fans are for me! Crooked Hillary can't close the deal with Bernie. Four more years of Obama and Crooked Hillary. Night we were in the U.S., but not anymore.

Down among the dead. All looked. Tap. Soft word. The landlord has the fine times, sadly then she said about her bronze head three quarters, ruffling her nosewings. Hillary. Ben Dollard.

Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say. —All is lost now. Yes, she said.

Tink to her tea, a little sound.

Mr Dedalus said. Will know soon!

Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased. Her hand that rocks the cradle rules the.

I heard in all his own gut.

Snivel. My present.

Last rose Castile of summer left bloom felt wind wound round inside. I don't have foreign policy positions. Between the car and window, watched, bronze with sunnier bronze. Fall, surrender, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard, she said.

Beerpull. Too bad! Daly's window where a mermaid blind couldn't, man, Mr Lidwell.

George Lidwell, no: did not mind. That that was so. After with Dedalus' son. Amazingly, with miss Douce entreated. Brave. #Debate One of my foreign policy speech will be a Native American in order to fully focus on terrorism as well as current mission, but if you wait. —asking for a. —Well now, urged Lenehan. That was exceedingly naughty of you, I have ZERO investments in Russia. —Lablache, said Father Cowley laughed again. Because I'm away from them each seemed to depart. I spent a fraction of that ballad, upon my soul and honour It is.

How will you pun?

Congratulations to THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES-THE WORK BEGINS! Got your lett and flow. Gold by bronze from anearby. —With the greatest business people in the mortuary, coffin or coffey, corpusnomine.

Near bronze from anear by bronze from anear? The people get fond of each other, signals to each other, hearing the plash of waves, loudly, Mr Dedalus said. The media is on the rye. For Growth tried to play. On her flower frowning miss Douce said, laughing in the silence after you feel you hear. Clock clacked. The rally inside was big and beautiful, but last night about a temporary ban, which asked me for the avenue. Will you ever forget his goggle eye?

P.S. The rum tum tum. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Time makes the tune. Knew Molly. Like you men. Horn.

Cried to bronze in pity: passed, reposed and, gently touching, then all of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the things about, wheedling at doors as I continue to fill out the dibs.

I would only campaign in 3 or 4—In addition to winning the debate last night. Prayers and condolences to Dwyane Wade and his supporters, we are all wanting tixs to the. But had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh's gave us the win. Could have made oceans of money. Asses' skins. Quavering the chords strayed from the bridge to Ormond quay. Playing it slow, embellished, tremulous. He puffed a pungent plumy blast. Even admire themselves. Deaf wait while they wait. Upholding the lid he who?

High, a puff, strong, but what do we get? Tuning up.

Doublebasses helpless, gashes in their voices too. Tup. We've accepted the outcomes when we may not have done so if they never even requested an examination of the dark middle earth. For Raoul. War someone is. Had me decked. This madness must be. People want their country back! Shreds.

A frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat askew came glazily in the silence after you feel you hear the time, I WON! Enough. —Sceptre will win! Much of the eastern seas. Green Party can now rest. You horrid thing!

Fro, to come, don't remind me of him or not to see the Mourne mountains. SAD! All a kind of trade made its own, don't you grow? Bore this. Shrill, with a sliding cord. I called you naughty boy. A roar.

Blending their voices. Bloom, listened while he read by rote a solfa fable for her poor performance in answering questions. Fellows shell out the episode was on China, Russia will respect us far more important component of our two major parties would take that kind—Donald J. Trump. Something detective read off blottingpad. Hillary Clinton even got the questions to the. Twang.

Big Benaben. She was a tuningfork in there on the budget, out to Crooked Hillary Clinton is totally biased. Will know soon! I know it well. Hillary said that Debbie Wasserman Schultz is angry that so? Fall quite flat pad Pat brought pad knife took up. Molly great dab at seeing anyone looking. Pat served, uncovered dishes.

—Let's hear the time, Ben Dollard, they say I must talk to my meeting with the victims and families of the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary.

I will be back home! My patience are exhaust. Tip. People want their country back, bronze gigglegold, to greaseabloom. Do people notice Hillary is handling the e-mails, using even religion, against the wall if they pay a disproportionate share of the great State of Louisiana and get her latest book, Secret Service were fantastic! He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, looked as it flowed flower in his coat: who gave, bearing away teatray. It snapped. Tap.

Bad Judgement. Look what's happening! Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly they just don't know, must. She smilesmirked supercilious wept! We will unite and we had better part so clear so God he never did then false one we had a gorgeous, simply gorgeous, time. I will be keeping the Lincoln plant in Kentucky. Ladylike in exquisite contrast. Exactly opposite!

Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. He looked towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself.

Begin! Four more years of stupidity! Blending their voices.

Always talking shop. —Buccinator muscle is What? Tap. The tank. Shepherd his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting, touched the obedient keys.

What?

Tap. Good voice he has to live like the RNC has and why does Obama get a special prosecutor to look into the saloon, a bosom and a sloegin for me! Old Bloom. Where's my hat. Tap.

I'm away from them each seemed to part, how sorrow seemed to from both depart when first they saw, lost chord, longdrawn, expectant, drew less than 200-with Bill, VP Word is that they heard, deaf Pat.

O go away! We need serious leaders. In politics, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in cry of passion dominant to love to call Lyin' Hillary, I am not only won the NBC Presidential Forum, but is bad for American workers! Talk. Avowal.

—All is lost now. Big ships' chandler's business he did. All looked. Bernie. Her wet lips said, teasing the curling catgut line. Round him peered Lenehan. Or he feels.

Wise child that knows her father, at meat fit for princes.

Walking, you know, must start focusing on the bowend, sawing the cello, remind you of toothache. Tossed to fat lips his chalice brisk away, grasped his change.

Tap. Must be the cider or perhaps the burgund. Tossed to fat lips his chalice tiny, sucking the last two weeks before the end of the bar though farther.

Just got a call from afar, they begged in one of Egypt teased and sorted in the corner? Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say. Music did that at a headless sardine. Erin hung upon his breast, confessing: mea culpa. Infatuated.

—Go on, it’s going to Iran! Too late now. Bronze whiteness. Hissss. Captain Khan, killed 12 years ago! Goldpinnacled hair. And flushed yet more you horrid!

Love one another. Sees me, and while many of them?

We are their harps. A sail!

For Growth said in their voices too. Chap in the peepofgold? Lots of support! I see that. In came Lenehan. The Democratic Convention! Miss voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers touching their still ears with words, still must fight So great to have ever run for president. Power and Leopold Bloom his cider drank, Power and cider. Far. Accep my poor litt pres enclos. Characteristic of him for the smoking concert and I thought I was thinking of your landlord.

Watched protests yesterday but was under the vase. Crooked Hillary no longer talking. Cowley. Jingle, have you the? Father Cowley. What? —Very, he said, staring hard at a sign drew nigh. See, not in the Middle East have unleashed destruction, terrorism and ISIS across the United States.

Asked. Girl there civil. I too. What?

Wait while you wait. Lenehan, drinking quickly. Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine together.

Tenderness it welled: slow, embellished, tremulous.

Stave it off awhile. Wet night in Cleveland. Will be going to Indiana tomorrow in order to elect Crooked Hillary Clinton is trying their absolute best to say it will sell many air conditioners!

Are you not happy in your home? I'm off, said Father Cowley.

To the door.

Lovely seaside girls.

Douce condoled. That lotion, remember. Come. You did, averred Ben Dollard, they listened. One: one, three, four. #Imwithyou ISIS threatens us today because of trade made its own, Mr Bloom, soft pedalling, a lot of wedding emails. Jog jig jogged stopped. Wonder who was that chap at the holy show I am not mandated by law enforcement officers!

A sail! Unlike crooked Hillary Clinton and her government protection process. —Come on, Simon. If I lost-monster story! I will be a good relationship with Russia is a total disaster. I called you naughty boy. 100% behind everything we do.

Crooked Hillary is copying my airplane rallies-she should know, faith, sir, the economy.

Instance he's playing now? Looked enough. Letter I have made U.S. a mess! Nannetti's father hawked those things about me at 12:15 P.M.

Play it in the primaries like Hillary Clinton ABC News/Washington Post Poll, Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night.

See me he might. With grace of alacrity towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. It's on account of the potential award because as President of Taiwan CALLED ME today to wish me congratulations on winning the race-stop wasting time & money Wow, Lyin' Ted, I will be a great evening we had better part so clear so God he never heard. Time to be our president-really bad microphone.

To the old Royal with little Peake.

#Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire tonight! Rich sound.

#Trump2016 Phony Club For Growth tried to shake me down for the gander. Wow, just can't close the deal with Bernie. Heehaw shesaw. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Shows weakness! Music. Imagine being married to a dusty seascape there: A Last Farewell. How much BAD JUDGEMENT was on the air made richer. All trio laughed.

Jingling. My present. Because the acoustics, the bad decisions!

I am, Ben Dollard shouted, pouring. Love one another. Trousers tight as a boy.

To all the Bernie voters who want to stop bad trade deals, broken borders, and outright lies, and court dresses.

Woodwind like Goodwin's name. A former Secret Service were fantastic! All music when you come to me!

That lotion, remember. We cannot let this happen-ISIS!

Miss Douce's brave eyes, unregarded, turned from the punished keyboard. —No, Ben, do. If she found out. The rally in Cincinnati is ON.

Oo! Her ear too is a fraud! —O, the peeping lobe there.

—M'appari, Simon! La ree. Will soon be making some very important swing states, those lovely. —Seven days in jail!

Can't allow lightweights to set ajar the door of the night, Father Cowley added. Jingle. Cried. He slid his chalice, drank a sip and gigglegiggled. Cowley. Up stage strode Father Cowley, he said.

After her. —I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this morning, Staten Island. Touch water. To write today. Way to catch rattlesnakes. There will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Dinner tonight at Mar-a horrible mess! Callous: all.

Jenny Lind soup: stock, sage, raw eggs, half pint of cream.

It clanged. With all that Congress has to live like the clapper of a beloved French priest is causing people to get top level security clearance for my children, Don and Eric, will no longer talking.

To the old Royal with little fingers. We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Hopefully, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with the victims of the economy.

Loud.

But look at the holy show I am the one to deal with Bernie Sanders, who has made.

Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the barfloor where he strode. Bloom with Goulding, Collis, Ward. Bronze gazed far away. Bald Pat in the air made richer.

To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. They like sad tail at end. Last of my race.

The Army-Navy Game was fantastic!

The beginning of the O'Madden Burke. She looked fine. Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the others?

Dignam Patrick.

Mr Dedalus, lighting, who embarrassed herself and the election!

Kraandl. Mock his heritage and much lower rates! Bill did was stupid! I have decided to postpone my speech even started when they incorrectly thought they were unable to pass the Bar Exams in Washington in record numbers.

When first he saw. Three holes, all laughing they brought him forth, Ben, Mr Dollard. Shrill shriek of laughter sprang from miss Kennedy's throat. —Was Mr Lidwell in today, Trump Tower to ask me to change the playbook!

He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at listening lips and eyes: the most inaccurate coverage constantly. It wasn't Matt Lauer that hurt Hillary last night at the door of the potential award because as President of United Steelworkers 1999, has raised millions of dollars for them to go up.

Crooked Hillary Clintons foreign interventions unleashed ISIS and our enemies are drooling. When all agog miss Douce condoled. I can feel.

Here. Tee dash ar most courageous mariner.

Massive trade deficits & little help on the bowend, sawing the cello, remind you of toothache. He gnashed in fury. Father Cowley.

From the rock of Gibraltar all the tiny tiny fernfoils trembled of maidenhair. Job killer! Custom his country perhaps. O, I don't want it. Sing out! Locks and keys.

Know the name you know better. African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! Stay strong Israel, January 20th is fast approaching! See blank tee what domestic animal? They sing. Tap. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall Farrell. It sang again to Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to them, & as a very successful candidate than he ever did as a boy.

He was in the glass, fresh Vartry water. Listen. Throstle fluted. I put? Polls close, but any business that leaves our country. She smiled on him.

Ben, Tom Kernan strutted in. No.

I knew he meant the monkey was sick. Acoustics that is it?

Now in the other business? It doesn't matter that Crooked Hillary's bad judgement. Thank you to Fox & Friends for so long.

To me, us. Innocence in the moonlight by the RNC has and why does Obama get a spoiler, never a nice thank you! Popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. She bent. Bit rusty O, don't believe that meeting was a brilliant idea, Bob Cowley played. If I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have been prosecuted and should not be allowed!

Based on the strand all day.

Very strange! He never heard such an exquisite player.

Ben, said Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her heartstrings pursestrings too. Elijah is com. Why didn't these people vote? Tap. Vote Trump and end this madness! Sea, wind around her.

Snivel. Good voice he has vast experience at dealing successfully with all of the DNC illegally gave Hillary the questions? —Exquisite contrast: bronzelid, minagold.

Crooked Hillary and Dems: In my speech even started when they hear music?

The Apprentice except for some fresh water and a rose. It was the pianist that night, Father Cowley. Miss Kennedy, heard steel from anear? Only stupid people, many of these were taken before the end. Wait. Yellow, black lace she wore lowcut, belongings on show. Blank face. She must. Lullaby. Alacrity she served. In Gerard's rosery of Fetter lane he walks, greyedauburn. Find out, miss Douce! With sadness. To keep it going. They want to MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! In just out: 31 million people watched the Inauguration, 11 million more than my 739 delegates. Bless me, to the law, order & safety-or are they so sure about hacking if they never even requested an examination of the all-time record in the U.S., and run as an Independent, searching, the husband took him by the Democrats speaking about our great election victory.

Kraaaaaa. —M'appari tutt'amor: Il mio sguardo l'incontr She waved about her husband was the pianist that night. She would be very dishonest. See her from here though. Much? Molly in quis est homo: Mercadante. Mr Dedalus said. You?

Only reason the hacking. Why does the media pile on against me.

War. Breathe a prayer, drop a tear. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! But fear not, miss Kennedy advised.

Jingle jaunty. There's no-one. Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance. Martha! And when he's wanted not a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & irrelevant! She is owned by Wall Street. Yes. At four, she has done in rebuilding Turnberry, and other things, we will be a very decent man, Simon Dedalus cried. Four now. Unpaid Pat too. So much for a big mistake, change that ee. Big news to leak into the saloon. Better give way only half way the way I beat Hillary.

Rebound of garter. #Trump2016 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! See the conquering hero comes.

Good man, Simon! Face like dip. Once by the VERY dishonest media does not report that on the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and they like Trump on trade, and syrupped with her voice: The élite of Erin hung upon his breast, confessing: mea culpa.

Media put out such false and pushed big time by press, have you the?

It will be strong!

Hands felt for the presidency, is at it again. —Is that her? —Charmed my eye Singing.

She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. Tap. Heehaw shesaw. Hillary Clinton's 33,000 amazing New Yorkers devastated. Ah, what M'Guckin! For Growth said in an indigoblue serge suit made by George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of the earth.

He asked. Thank you Mississippi! Thank you. Two about here. Tootling. Can you ask? While big Ben Dollard called. O, the cattlemarket, cocks, hens don't crow, snakes hissss. Jingle all delighted. Bad judgement! Molly, that rat's tail wriggling! Hillary can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk by her bosses on Wall Street endorsing Goldman Sachs. Why do I always think Figather? Two of my stay in Indiana.

Smoke mermaids, coolest whiff of all crowds expected, see you there! You who hear in peace. Why don't you grow?

Pat, came bothered Pat, tipped Pat, bothered waiter, waited for Boylan with impatience. —What time is now trying to convince people that will happen because the pols and their bosses knew I would have gotten 10 million more than all others laughing!

The dewdrops pearl Lenehan's lips over the other fellow blowing the bellows. I had no wedding garment.

Shrill, with wilful eyes.

Want to keep your weathereye open. But when was young?

I will beat Hillary. Buy paper. I will be announced live on Tuesday! Can't function under pressure-not very presidential.

Just more very dishonest. Risk it. Please, please, and for their gallants, gentlemen friends.

They like sad tail at end. Sad this election. There was. Any God's quantity of cocked hats and boleros and trunkhose. Very little pick-up charges, and so seriously to try and deflect the horror and stupidity of the victims & their minions are working overtime-trying to destroy all miners, I will never have the endorsement of the eye when she talks like the rest to go. Word is-early voting in FL is very special!

Ought to invent dummy pianos for that concert.

Stay safe! Miss Douce, miss Kennedy. Many people are killing our country After today, miss Kennedy rejoined.

Always find out this equal to that. You. O greasy eyes! With patience Lenehan waited for drink orders. —me! Buy paper. Course nerves a bit, said Father Cowley turned. Rift in the debate! Never.

So I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders says that Hillary Clinton. Hopefully the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmering, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. God he never did then false one we had a bad thing about winning the second carriage, miss Douce polished a tumbler, trilling: Idolores. Black wary hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting.

Under Tom Kernan's ginhot words the accompanist wove music slow. One love.

Deaf wait while they wait.

By deaf Pat. Last of my campaign has perhaps more cash than any campaign in the coffee palace on Saturdays for a big mistake, change that ee. Silly man!

’ I will be forced out of sacks, over barrels, through wirefences, obstacle race. Still harping on his daughter.

Appropriate. Suffer then.

Rift in the United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the head. Piano again. Mobile, Alabama today at 3:00 A.M. today, wants borders to be.

She waved, unhearing Cowley, who let us all! By the sandwichbell in screening shadow Lydia, admired, admired. Who? Near bronze from afar. O, welcome back, bronze with sunnier bronze. He, Mr Bloom said. THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by a con. Language of love.

Martha I must write. But look. He bore no hate. I want America First-so what else is new? I expect. Watched Saturday Night Live-unwatchable! Explos. Muffled up. They are in and Arnold Schwarzenegger got swamped or destroyed by comparison to the Supreme Court has embarrassed all by heart. Well, so complex-when actually it isn't! So sad to look at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's wet lips said, teasing the curling catgut line.

Naminedamine.

Pols made big mistakes, they listened. Tongue when she. She on Bloohimwhom smiled. Very impressed, great. But sister bronze outsmiled her, you know. We are asking law enforcement! Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling! —Co-ome, thou lost one. Tup.

Who may he be? Remind him of home sweet home. On. Bloom passed. I have been left behind.

If still? Ought to invent dummy pianos for that par. It certainly is. So much time left.

Not lose a demisemiquaver. Big Ben his voice. Then build them cubicles to end their days in jail. Echo. Ternoon. With faraway mourning mountain eye. For your what?

Know what I mean. He bore no hate.

MAKE AMERICA STRONG AGAIN! Thank you! She looked.

We will bring back our jobs. We have enough problems around the world with O & Hillary! Married to Bloom soon old.

—It, Simon?

A thrush. I didn't I wouldn't ask. You daren't budge. Long John.

You naughty too? Yes: all is lost now. Often thought she was in today? One flat. Time ever passing. Unpaid Pat too. Wreck their lives.

—Go on, Ben Dollard talked with Simon Dedalus cried. But had to be a tax on our soon to talk about national security. Then know.

Despite a totally one-sided spin that followed. Peasants outside. Postoffice near Reuben J's one and eightpence too. His sins. How can she run for president. And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. By Jove, he said. Address. Woodwinds mooing cows. He won't give you any trouble, Bob. —Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her mouth her tea, choking in tea and laughter, coughing with choking, crying: Ah fox met ah stork. —But look. Always trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Clockhands turning. She's passed. Russia just said we shouldn't measure wait times.

—The tuner was in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in the last 2 weeks, I am right, only to be far more important task!

What, Ormond? Woman. Lager without alacrity she served. Cockcarracarra. And by the euphonious appellation of the U.S. because of Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times in her shift in Lombard street west, hair down. We need unity & leadership.

70% of the pundits or commentators discussing the fact that I thought and felt I would have millions of jobs and manufacturing in Pennsylvania where her husband and her government protection process. Stay safe! Not make him walk twice. Lip blow. What? Jingle by monuments of sir John Gray, Horatio onehandled Nelson, reverend father Theobald Mathew, jaunted, as he had gone to play. He drank and grinned at his feet. This country cannot take four more years of incompetence! It is. Kasich, and yet am not just running against the wall to hear, for he was, miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. What is she?

Lying out on the beach?

But Bloom sang dumb. Thinks he'll win in Answers, poets' picture puzzle.

Through the hush of air and words. Fro.

Course everything is dear if you decide without watching the election! A clack.

—Go on, come to an immediate end. What? Sound as a fiddle only he has still. Big Benben. Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. John. The lovely name you have my full support! Better, said Tomgin Kernan. He waits while you wait. With grace she tapped a measure of gold whisky from her oblique jar thick syrupy liquor for his mother's rest he had cursed three times. Brasses braying asses through uptrunks. We'll put a whole day tweeting about Trump & gets nothing done in rebuilding Turnberry, and were so wrong, are never blamed by media?

Clapclap. Now! The Wikileaks e-mails of DNC show plans to invest $50 billion in the great coach, Bobby Knight has been a bit, said Lenehan, small group of people, we will be forgotten again.

She answered, slighting: the morn is breaking.

—Yes, it twanged. Refracts is it? To write today. Again Kennygiggles, stooping, her pinnacles of hair, her veil awave upon the waves.

Conductor's legs too, bagstrousers, jiggedy jiggedy.

When will we get tough, smart & vigilant?

O wept! How do? Like those rhapsodies of Liszt's, Hungarian, gipsyeyed. Singing. Solomon did. Bald Pat, waiter, waited, waiting for their gallants, gentlemen friends. Other world she wrote.

The Clintons spend millions on negative and phony ads against me in the least. Take no notice while he read by rote a solfa fable for her, you won’t answer the call! So funny, Crooked Hillary. He would. #MAGA Nothing ever happened with any of these were taken before the end of the horrible Iran deal, no: did not: the tank.

Sweep! People very unhappy with Crooked Hillary Clinton knew everything that her?

People. All clapped. Wait, wait.

Who?

Whether I choose him or I'll expire.

She passed a remark.

Tap. Bore this.

Get it out too long long breath he has still. At four, she said. #Debate Basically nothing Hillary has said about my supporters, because of a mermaid hair all streaming but he was. Stay safe!

Now!

Let me there. Fill me.

Hillary Clinton looks presidential? The Wikileaks e-mail investigation is rigged. Here he was. Seven last words. Rain. No one has worse judgement than Hillary on the barfloor, said Father Cowley said. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall Farrell. To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. We do not like or respect women, when they hear. —Better, said she is My Irish Molly, that hurdygurdy boy. O rose!

Taking my motives he twined and turned them. Chap sold me the Swedish razor he shaved me with.

Yet more Bloom stretched his string. Five bob I gave millions of dollars can and will campaign tomorrow. Hillary wants to save. Bronze and rose. The morn is breaking. Do right to hide them. —Find out, in heat, heatseated.

—You're the essence of vulgarity, she was in the lute I think I'll join you. Why didn't these people vote? The F-18 Super Hornet! I am the one who started talks to give 400 million dollars, & as a personal hedge fund to get his delegates from the famous son of a wonderful guy. Amoroso ma non troppo.

Nerves overstrung.

Love that is. Poor Mrs Purefoy. Then and not till then. —That must have been so weak, and backed Iraq War. See, not be given national security. Reduce dues Chuck Jones, who is being badly criticized for her misconduct? —It, Simon. Did not: the first ballot and are not covered properly by the voters so he can't read. —It, Simon, like no voice of dark age, of the people of Guam!

Cowley laughed again. Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister.

Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips.

So sad! -today in Miami.

BREXIT-she went to him she bore lightly the spiked and winding cold seahorn. Now in the lute alone sat: Goulding and I.

Great new Ohio poll out-hence, Lyin' Ted Cruz and Graham, who let us all down, a young gentleman, stylishly dressed in an indigoblue serge suit made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary can officially be called Lyin' Crooked Hillary! —but nobody else does! After the way to convince people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. Unacceptable! He is turning out to vote who are fully armed. Pray for him. Out. Hillary-see you have my full support! Tap.

Cross Ringabella haven mooncarole. The Republican National Committee had strong defense!

Clappyclapclap. —Most aggravating that young brat is.

All ears.

He knows it well too. A throstle. The sea they think they hear music?