Professor Ross E. Forp
Android: Dior DNA?
Tessa: a asset.
Murmur: “Rum. Rum.”
So, listen to idiot Net-Silos.
Rot, idea-editor!
Bonsai bitter germ regret tibia snob
Art amuses Iran. Arise, Sumatra!
He’s selfless, eh?
Hannah has ten noble (on Noel) bonnets. Ah, Hannah!
Citadels led a tic.
Naomi, moan!
See, beg, narrate me, tar-range bees!
Set tall lips, spill lattes.
Drown, word!
O loss! Eyes solo!
Don, repel, brawl, warble “Pernod”!
To hostile me, lit so hot!
Gnus sung.
[Note: The illustration is the first image that appears when one Googles “Professor Ross E. Forp.”]
