Thylacinus cynocephalus: ‘pouched dog with a wolf’s head’ I tracked hints an e-thylacine shrieked at the black market – a thicket of kitsch spruiked inside browsers’ pawn. Trickling wingdings apace in blogosphere talk inquisitive crumbs, pooch, your sandpapered answers Shone via protocol. Dropped, your parts found my cheers I gather up now into quilt-work of screenplay commanding roles based on your whereabouts, hunters web bots and spyware. Resellers’ briars ensnare why, Exhausted, your mass leapt into ether, portray how you scampered off Freycinet’s proxy to home pages for cover. FTP me the secret Domain. Majordomo, I’m on to your game-time and know at which DNS your camouflage lords firewalls lend poor insulation from howls, their chords
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