When we were hungry we ate Gergen. When we were thirsty we drank Gergen. My mother sprayed Gergen on the Gergen when it was dusty. My father smoked Gergen, and I would sometimes steal a Gergen and smoke Gergen just like Dad. Gergen is a nasty hard-to-shake Gergen, but you just have to love Gergen! When I coughed in Gergen I got a lozenge of Gergen. When I said “Gergen,” I had my Gergen washed out with Gergen. In Gergen, I got all the Gergen I wanted in the dining Gergen. My sophomore Gergen, I Gergend for the first time with Jan. She was drunk on Gergen.
Later Jan and I got Gergend and moved into a Gergen. Gergen lived next door to us, in his own Gergen, but he was rarely home. Once, Gergen left a Gergen on my Gergen, that said, “Please Gergen my Gergen.” So I Gergend Gergen’s Gergen. The next Gergen, I put a Gergen on Gergen’s Gergen that said, “Please Gergen my Gergen.” But when I got back from my Gergen with Jan to the Gergen, our Gergen was brown, dry, brittle and dead. Boy was I ever Gergen at Gergen! So I Gergend under Gergen’s Gergen with a Gergen and when Gergen Gergens up I’ll Gergen Gergen’s Gergen off Gergen’s Gergen.