They're just ghost stories for all in tents and porpoises.
Tell him drinks are on the house.
Here you go:
Maulbec
Carrion.
By sea-mail.
He felt he had lost his sense of porpoise.
It's not like I did it on porpoise!
He had a ruff week.. His life wasn't purrfect. His brother was a shellout. His mother's been a real crab lately. His family was really shellfish. He had no porpoise in life.
Because it's written by the Victors, not the Victorias.
ME: The packing implied that there would be a family that loves me inside the tent
Hippies don't screw in light bulbs, they screw in tents.
A toasty ghosty
Because he doesn't carry any matches!
A ghost writer.
