As a thespian and dogmatic chronolographer, I have decided to exude tolerance on many levels, without which, moonpie and pennywhistle, mould and hogwart, transantensic flight paths through the greater regions of the uncharted dimensions of the land of smells, in which noses can run free with gay abandon. Flitting through this ulfactory wonderland, disenfranchised and free to contact their owners who so often overlook them.
The real secret is caused by rednecks, who, chase their prized fowls spiritually by means of hoe-down and gobble-digook. Bandaging my pussed wound, I noticed that my chicken had no bones, swimming, dancing, running, laughing, heckling, mocking and healing without really eating, as one fills up on moonpie and verbs rather easily.
As the workers from burger king offered me their hair nets as scrotum support i climbed out of the deep fryer, unaware that my reputed comb-over had run off with the chickens bones to the treaty of guadalupe-hidalgo, finally getting the texans off my back.
Once the spurs were removed, the trees smiled down at me and the vertically-unparallel border path realised its closest point would be at the beginnig, its feet, whilst it cackled in its convex glory, reaching out and away to the stars and its predecessors, banished to infinite quagmires of love and hate, urkell and carl.
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If it wasn't for Judge Hardcastle, I don't know where I'd be.
The real secret is caused by rednecks, who, chase their prized fowls spiritually by means of hoe-down and gobble-digook. Bandaging my pussed wound, I noticed that my chicken had no bones, swimming, dancing, running, laughing, heckling, mocking and healing without really eating, as one fills up on moonpie and verbs rather easily.
As the workers from burger king offered me their hair nets as scrotum support i climbed out of the deep fryer, unaware that my reputed comb-over had run off with the chickens bones to the treaty of guadalupe-hidalgo, finally getting the texans off my back.
Once the spurs were removed, the trees smiled down at me and the vertically-unparallel border path realised its closest point would be at the beginnig, its feet, whilst it cackled in its convex glory, reaching out and away to the stars and its predecessors, banished to infinite quagmires of love and hate, urkell and carl.
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If it wasn't for Judge Hardcastle, I don't know where I'd be.
