250 squats is more than 250 steps... as i said before, with god dead the dietician is deemed respectable as topic of every conversation.

raffaello baldini
                      dante alighieri
umberto fiori                          franco buffoni
                          milo de angelis,
                                    none sing
a *ciao bella! not one;
                          bleaching is the process
of cultural invigoration residing with only
one ***** donation; oh hell, raise one
up yourself - i can't be bothered,
i just ate a pâté & meat with fat sandwich,
am i to hit the treadmill? i don't think so...
but i know you are;
i was never going to be a Japanese tourist,
i.e. a pensioner.

otherwise in England: mind the personal space,
mind the personal space... don't touch me! don't touch me!
mind the personal space... you're not the narrator,
don't enter my personal space! don't touch me!
Jane Austen neurosis... mind the personal space...
don't dare touch me!
fine... fine fine fine, the rolling hills of Yorkshire
and ******* was inspiration for
Herr Roach Hair in Ashtray -
the countryside girls became such a bore
when they entered urban environments,
all the adventures prior became one hour engagements
in terms of *******... the adventures
of homily... make a nag nag nag blah remark...
a n'ah n'ah n'ah nagging gesture...
queen's wave... whatever that means,
Elisabeth the Second
became disgruntled at having
the clock and bridge named after her
but no Shakespeare to parallel her reign,
only the dumbing down to mind, hookah hooray!
Charlie's waiting to tie the knots for his Lawrence
escapades into Arabia.