Don’t worry: one of these days I’ll run out. But for now, some more from Drummond Moir’s Just My Typo.
• The way she swung her hips, it was clear she was a wonton woman.
• Oh, don’t be so mellow dramatic.
• The pond was stocked with plump, lazy crap.
• She cuddled up behind him, her arms circling his waste.
• It was like having a bitch you couldn’t scratch.
• The city had been obliterated by an unclear missile.
• If you see him, do give him my retards.
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