One Liners








Solzhenitsyn’s Innuit souls.

Shakespeare’s peers shake!

“Tell us, judge, of digitalis. Or didja’ tell us?”

He’s pro-opera, see.

Proselytize! Tithe tennis pro’s!

Juicy sea juice.
‘D’you see sea juice?

Pulp title:
“Temptation at Station Temp”

A filmy mouthful.

A staff of fats.

You crane, Ukraine!

Mitchum’s a “mum itch.”

German manger.

Dermer’s murder.

Farewell, welfare!

Digital? Toldja,’ Jed.

Darrel licked a derelict.

‘Nary an ornithologist just slothed in, ornery.

Eric hits heretics!

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