The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad Commas, wild Question Marks and devious Semikoli.
Pityful a rethoric question ran over her cheek, then she continued her way. On her way she met a copy.
But nothing the copy said could convince her and so it didn’t take long until a few insidious Copy Writers.
The copy warned the Little Blind Text, that where it came from it would have been rewritten a thousand times and everything.
A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia. It is a paradisematic country.
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