My Jaws Just Broke, My Mind Has A Cramp
Fyghten togeder we dide, this valet and ich, in Rethel-toune whanne the Frensshe layde waste to yt to letten the Prince Noir from crossinge, and in the melee we were scatterede from the hoste, and we two dide runne like eye makeupe on a televangelistes wyf. We coude spyen no banneres of oure lorde, and yn the welken ronge the trumpours of the Frensshe in their victorie.
Minishorts finds the strangest sites and asks me to plug them. I think she should have a more active social life.
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