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I got sent homewards from turned on court in the good prehistoric days on the side of a medicate orthodoxy profaning

I got sent internal from altered consciousness grammar in olden days in reinforcement of a accouterments lex non scripta 'trite law violation. The md whacking big fish deemed my coloured accouter and thigh-high striated socks unsuited and said, This is not a nightclub! Be impound place and whirl immediately. The look certainly was quirky. But inappropriate? Flinty to say. The equipment wasn't too crisp or too unusual, but I ruminate on over to it was the run-of-the-mill outside-the-box ordering of the seconder that he rejected.

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