urrg

A Q key found and a Q key wagered. In all my pilferings I surmise Van Halen couldn't have been better than the cocker spaniel made them out to be. I'm fairly certain that insurance companies don't like having poetry read at them.
Everyone's leaving. . . .


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Get something you wouldn't expect, like a squid.


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Conventionally the hat would have stayed, happily squatting upon the heads of forgotten lore. Alas this was no conventional hat, it was a magic emu named Fortinbras. The very same magic emu that coached Michael Jackson and Webster in their language class so they might be able to more clearly converse with their magic Llama and Beatrice Arthur. Wait a minute. . .THAT WAS OUR PLANET!!!!!!


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Gravy abides in the paste, orange cold and yet still over one thousand degrees of turnip. It lasts forever on the scalded hands of an infant.
NO! HOT!


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Sumptuously up bang jangle gangle rangle noise noise disturbing sound breaking sleep finding comics without relief new fangled bangles ate candles on rose wood, dog wood was bone and the uterus suffered, cramping uphill towards pills and no real reward. Continuing not to learn my walk the crank was too Japanese for the internet noise noise.


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The blurst of times has arrived and those monkeys don't know the half of it.


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My vice. . .My vice grips me with tin can hands holing up the muffler leaving me to drive with my elbows like a shotgun. The jake was slapped and I slowed right down into four ways.


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Oh.



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Your quick fox is no match for my exploding typewriters Pilchner! The computer science exams will be passed eloquently and no amount of studios in the Caribbean will be able to withstand my wrath. Why drink and drive when you can smoke and fly? I smell popcorn, POP! POP! POP! The good kind, not the kind that comes from my feet. The guy in front of me just farted. The gas in my nose came out of his ass. That’s revolting. I wonder if disease can be passed through fart gas? Now I smell chocolate almonds. . . Maybe I’m just having a seizure.


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Ancient one liking shoes
are you jealous of my poo?
If this train goes off the track
Pick it up pick it up pick it up
Jack.
Ooooh that’s a likey sandwich.


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Where are my sleeves? Can modern science replace them? With a baboon heart???


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