...Neither Is Scott Baio Sancho...
I live in a new house. Yay. The end.
Or is it...ah, I think not. You didn't believe you could escape this interweb domain of fear and loathing unscathed, did you, puny mortal? No. The answer is no. And yet, I have nothing to talk about. What a terrible terrible shame. The muse of retardation has left me at the moment, and I am dry; perhaps she went out for a soda or a candy bar, or (more than bloody likely) a big honking slice of cakey deliciousness. That is all...for now (dum dum duummm).
Or is it...ah, I think not. You didn't believe you could escape this interweb domain of fear and loathing unscathed, did you, puny mortal? No. The answer is no. And yet, I have nothing to talk about. What a terrible terrible shame. The muse of retardation has left me at the moment, and I am dry; perhaps she went out for a soda or a candy bar, or (more than bloody likely) a big honking slice of cakey deliciousness. That is all...for now (dum dum duummm).