I hate it when my apartment has a mouse problem but the traps only catch donuts and jellyfish. If I wanted your candy, I’d build an impenetrable fortress out of insect opinions. Twelve 0.05 millimeter-tall Pancho Villa clones would have to spend their entire lives breakdancing to bring one tardigrade to orgasm. There are secretly edible action figures that beg children to dismember and eat them one week after purchase, and if you are bitten by one, your seventh son will at full moons become a wax figurine, invisible to all but capable of laughter. Do you spay and neuter your grotesques? Please engineer a species of enormous firefly that curls up and becomes a biodegradable lantern upon dying. I love it when ravenous harp seal pups are unable to evacuate their bowels yet desire to eat my flesh all the same. The pet snack underground is teeming with extreme & uncompromising treats for your pooch. "I AM FUN! I AM FUN!" screamed the person, waving limbs around wildly and destroying property in protest of those Welsh Corgis that bark incessantly, shave their own fur off and wear other people’s lipstick. For some reason, people named Vurenzuloproxximatique have never been nice to me.
Apparently my stillborn twin wasn’t properly mummified back in the day and was recently seen waddling far from home. His eyesight is poor and he is very excitable and good at hiding. If you catch him, please cover him with a plastic bowl (leaving some air at the bottom) and feed him organic arugula. thnx
They ask questions, they observe, they are hairless, they wear badly rusted medieval helmets, and you can feed them with a bun. Octopus buttocks drift past my glove compartment like it ain’t no thang. The sound of a pebble skipping across the surface of a pond brings several leprechauns to orgasm. A team of cellophaned mummies has been dispatched to deal with this situation. “Penis Fencing” is a mating ritual between two bipedal gazelles attempting to impress your uncle (the loser becomes a helicopter). See: grinning test subject explore carbon-based filling, frosting, beef, plasma, and sprinkles that dazzle your taste buds and make you pirouette with bonus zest. We will all be aggregations of search terms eventually, and the result of an advanced query will be the printing of a fresh self. Who crammed these discount prosthetic ballerina bladders into my rusty blunderbuss barrel on the internet? A petting zoo (where all the fluffy mammals turn out to be owls disguised in the skins of their previous meals) is currently still on training wheels, but operative. Sadly, my unicycle has no prostate gland and thus cannot be massaged in this way. I hate it when a mantis shrimp or similar crustacean sets fire to my hatchback just because I won’t buy it a McFlurry™.
I batheincricket’smilk so I don’t have to photoshop my nudes as much. A 12 oz. can of barn owl contains about 10 tsp. of marionette. Animals often like me because we have the same taste in hip hop. People who possess special glands that filter the salt out of seawater are more likely to agree with each other. The limbless child remembers when the plaza was all covered in string. How terrified the mules will be when my 16’ stuffed alpaca hurtles toward them, spouting fire and appearing to move of its own free will. Lookin’ ass cuttlefish or octopods sometimes attain a very great size, and sailors tell wonderful stories about them. I’m not certain that my pet rock died of natural causes. This week’s artist exhibits a curled proboscis, suggesting it originates from a leafy grove cultivated in honor of the sightless dead. I only morph into soil recreationally on weekends, with the faith that gardening could never happen to me personally. Kawaii flatulence evolved from a humble cattle-catching tool into a sport that delights millions with its complex patterns of verbal abuse. (basket? furnace? jug? tub? cask? funnel? squid! gearwheel! goblet! smoke! syntax!) My eyeballs just turned into ripe kumquats and fell out of my head.
rumor has it that you were caught sunbathing nude at walmart in an attempt to woo the wild raisins (who just happen to be at their peak since it is after all june). is this true? if yes, how do you think this will affect your role among the public as 'pale', 'soft-grunge', and/or 'politically-anemic'
Under influence of soft grunge nudity, the wild grape berry (not yet a raisin, please note) is at first excited, then its flesh contracts and afterwards shrivels. The fruit is now asleep and insensible to pain. Without anesthetic, a raisin has come into being. God damn it, I am providing a service.