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Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia.
It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth. Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar.
The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli, but the Little Blind Text didn’t listen. She packed her seven versalia, put her initial into the belt and made herself on the way.
When she reached the first hills of the Italic Mountains, she had a last view back on the skyline of her hometown Bookmarksgrove, the headline of Alphabet Village and the subline of her own road, the Line Lane. Pityful a rethoric question ran over her cheek, then she continued her way.
On her way she met a copy. The copy warned the Little Blind Text, that where it came from it would have been rewritten a thousand times and everything that was left from its origin would be the word “and” and the Little Blind Text should turn around and return to its own, safe country.
But nothing the copy said could convince her and so it didn’t take long until a few insidious Copy Writers ambushed her, made her drunk with Longe and Parole and dragged her into their agency, where they abused her for their projects again and again. And if she hasn’t been rewritten, then they are still using her.
The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment.
It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer.
I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine.
I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine.
I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine.
Two driven jocks help fax my big quiz. Quick, Baz, get my woven flax jodhpurs!
Have a pick: twenty six letters – no forcing a jumbled quiz! Crazy Fredericka bought many very exquisite opal jewels. Sixty zippers were quickly picked from the woven jute bag.
Flummoxed by job, kvetching W. zaps Iraq. Cozy sphinx waves quart jug of bad milk. A very bad quack might jinx zippy fowls. Few quips galvanized the mock jury box.
Alex Trebek’s fun TV quiz game. Woven silk pyjamas exchanged for blue quartz.
A very bad quack might jinx zippy fowls. Few quips galvanized the mock jury box.
My faxed joke won a pager in the cable TV quiz show. Amazingly few discotheques provide jukeboxes. My girl wove six dozen plaid jackets before she quit.
I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents.
I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents.