a sniffle and whiffle and stiglerie stout. touchy and muchy and pilsbury shout. ha ha ha, ha ha ha, and inkly pink stew. wee hee hee ha ha ha come drinky for you.
ha ha ha
ha ha ha
hee hee hee heeeee
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
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