Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts.
Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia.
It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth.
Two driven jocks help fax my big quiz. Quick, Baz, get my woven flax jodhpurs! "Now fax quiz Jack!" my brave ghost pled. Five quacking zephyrs jolt my wax bed.
Flummoxed by job, kvetching W. zaps Iraq. Cozy sphinx waves quart jug of bad milk. A very bad quack might jinx zippy fowls. Few quips galvanized the mock jury box.