I tried to load my Tired Donkey with produce from the family farm off the plateau of Madaurus. My 3 boys were very hungry. But, the garth that I thought was constructed by an honest leather smith from the village with of course a license of reputable honour kept on separating until it eventually snapped. My produce fell to the ground. The food ended in spoil and then eaten by vultures. My boys starved that night. I must now reach Gluteus Maximus and demand that he locates this despicable leather smith and teach him a lesson of Roman Law and the Justinian Code. "Off to the Colosseum as a gladiator slave!" I do say myself.
(x + 3) (x - 3) = x2 - 9
TD always wished to be Apuleius' Golden Ass. In other words, insurers, adjusters, and lawyers metamorphosed my health care and rehabilitation as a result of a Car Crash at Barrhaven, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada into a journey of criminal harassment, extortion, misleading of justice, malfeasance, and unprofessional conduct. Not one person went to jail. Welcome to Canada.
THE KNAVE WAS THE KNIGHT