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Yonder, I experienced a burning tingle in my nya-haven! It made me vomitous. So, right there was Joe. All tuckered out before we could even wipe that smirk on the rug. Which would have great big, hard deals. And those deals aren't penis'. No siree. They are, of course, cheese curds of extraordinary nastiness. "Holy crap! I wish I had gills." They were quite ill-equipped for every task I threw at Joe's TV. They went "Sploosh!" and "Haw!" respectively. That really pissed on the floor! I was so hungry that I ate my baby back rib bucket. Without the ribs. Just the back. And the bucket. And children. Trombonists aren't all they also are farmers. So I said, but I lied. True story. Finally, I got zubaz. I was happy. Because they fit and had zebra in my viens. Then I died. Later, in Mongolia, reincarnation took place. Back in Zimbobwa, Phillip was running from seventeen thousand turtle-snakes, a new TV, and zubaz. Which was the beginning of destruction? The answer is: four. But not far away, Picasso was singing his wishes to the flying rubber chicken as it pecked. The indispensible man said "HEY! get'r lots of happy, happy dance pills." So all died, and then everyone climbed several trees. Fast and bulbous wings of fire. Meanwhile, the buffalos roamed. So that sums it up. Buffalo and fire-wings. Of Fire. Yep. Fast and bulbous. Is a description of the snake with the pointy, razor type of deal, for true? That was my hankering. Though I'm very fat. So they say... The people who say sayings, said before "they who say.... Enough." The end... of that part-of-the-story. |
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