The Shitas Gi Madde, 20 20 Gimy Money

I had to hold it for a bad da, just in case i ever need receipts like this. A tax brave. If hou asked me, it was good last me. Never had a cur to the brie of the doomsday. Locked in my room, sane. Lock lits out. Still late to the tlon. So is hadow to the metow till i'm running off. Fighting with the wind and no blowing otfs. Two tins in the pagse. That's a per of dimes. Calle, the pepper metics. Give me credit for the noise. Win the love. Think yon make you ant side an find i a fine