After a review of the country we live in we know from the danger of the rank of lieutenant in its military that they are like a developmentally challenged retard who gives advice about which restaurants to go to or worse prepares food and can surmise from the response of such oddballs that their unrestrained hunt of the cities of America is only safe when they are eliminated.
The captains of poor sanitation are a hazard to the inhabitants of any population subject to the findings and topics of the review, so if you compare the affected population to the response of hazards (the businesses theirselves) to the dangerous peoples you will have an index of the victims in the review's vulnerability to how the egregious cause came to be in the critical alert of the review of what the country represents as the address of how the restaurants came to be inspiring.
The honor that the waiters give dining fortresses the experience in an atmosphere of sureness and resoluteness of personal extension. The comments of the waiter about the night's menu puts the rolling emotions at ease and allows the stirred hunger to lodge itself in the place of your party. The hunger growing in your chest finds its place of rest in your entree and utensils' arrangement.
Leaving the venue the air is hot with the smell of the restaurant, a laudromat at the corner, and crowds making their way through the blocks and endless pavement. The moon staggers its path down, and a halo is caught in your girlfriend's hair. She beckons with awe and choreography.
The captains of poor sanitation are a hazard to the inhabitants of any population subject to the findings and topics of the review, so if you compare the affected population to the response of hazards (the businesses theirselves) to the dangerous peoples you will have an index of the victims in the review's vulnerability to how the egregious cause came to be in the critical alert of the review of what the country represents as the address of how the restaurants came to be inspiring.
The honor that the waiters give dining fortresses the experience in an atmosphere of sureness and resoluteness of personal extension. The comments of the waiter about the night's menu puts the rolling emotions at ease and allows the stirred hunger to lodge itself in the place of your party. The hunger growing in your chest finds its place of rest in your entree and utensils' arrangement.
Leaving the venue the air is hot with the smell of the restaurant, a laudromat at the corner, and crowds making their way through the blocks and endless pavement. The moon staggers its path down, and a halo is caught in your girlfriend's hair. She beckons with awe and choreography.
