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..on some several of his pause. (could've been helm-et-al) That's what rocket scientists get when they switch hoarse sea-ponies midden in the deep stretches of the Intergalacticals. "Not so fast with lil babies just out of the woods", those were shouting. But by then it was already too late. With an enormous crescendo of loose flot- n' jetsam that dream team just avoided a totaled din of cacophonies in da den.. say. Now they all b3gin to fling fragile shrinks and brain surgeons who cannot make neither head, tails, nor funnily fine findings out of their notes, wrighdte into the disheveled cuckoo-nest for all to...wander a bit to afar. To st4r' wiz. - Appears that we very-much-so anticipating friends, fans and propellers of solar's greatest Art-Fair show, tapping with arms, legs, head and bangs, have to endure a day of most-annoying delay due to donno: signal is having a chat at the spacebar. Speak: twiddling thumbs entwined inextricably. Rescue request? hearing is believing. And ow: do not break a bottle of fizz on the way to the electronics- and spacious switchboard room.. Not b4 the other signal above your DJ's humming realm says fumfin like: Red Alert, we have a Holiday-on-Ice, please. Ventilator, rummaging rollerskater. Taste wanto!

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