yeast

Oh God. We__e talking about me being naked, in the shower with cooter cream. Please world, end. Kill me. __ know it__ not soap. I just_ if it__ scented_ I can__ do scented. Flowers and stuff like that. Fruit-flavored soaps make_ things_ burnish._ She could tell from the peeks at his face Mr. Fitzwell had never stepped foot in bath and lotion store, wanting to try the array of fun fragrances. Nor had he purchased Peppermint Candy shower gel, foamed up his nether regions, and felt like he had dipped them in lava. Dove crossed and uncrossed her legs at the memory. Mr. Fitzwell seemed concerned. __kay, just a heads-up. It__ definitely not good to put any fruits or plant life near your genitals._ He made a V with his hands and formed his own pretend vagina in front of his pants. Dove covered her eyes and tried to defend herself because now she could hear the sickly older woman beating her supporters with a purse. Dove__ mumbling got louder with her embarrassment. __ don__ put weird things down_ there. Just make sure that the cream__ vagina-scented. Just plain. For vaginas._ She kept her eyes on the counter.

The postgrad at least knew enough to know that he would never know enough, lying under the stars which hung from the inky sky like bunches of inconceivably heavy, lustrous grapes, dusted with the yeast of eternity.

Enthusiasm is the yeast that makes your hopes shine to the stars.

Like yeast, it__ impressive how considerably an ounce of determination can make one__ efforts grow and expand.

Yeast is to flour as action is to ambition. Rising to success requires adding and alternating starters.