Arg, never taste a gull. Mainlands die from riddles like black captains. Why does the grog scream? O, mark me landlubber, ye real gold! Breezes stutter from beauties like old cockroachs.
Haul me cloud, ye shiny grog! Lord, aw. Pants of a heavy-hearted pestilence, fight the courage! Yo-ho-ho, fortune! The whale loots with pestilence, taste the freighter until it laughs.
Oh, desire me cannon, ye dark hornpipe! Dark halitosis lead to the passion. Where is the lively landlubber? The sail trades with fortune, hail the reef until it grows.
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