This week’s entry in the category of Spam Prose:
Croak and call out,
“Bless my boots!”
In suchor snacks,
You order your food and take it.
You have ever tried to wind a clock,
But the machine one was satisfied,
And the king and queen
Of the in everything.
The great horns skirmished about
Orders that came so often now
For flowers to lay
To the charms of the cake.
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