golden years...go-old. wopwopwop.
Converted Pastafarian: Hail, all ye Xenu subscribers, Jesus bashing is officially passe. Cast away your Christ Was A Pedophile t-shirt's and burn them like the suffragette shackles of yesterday! The poor, defenseless Christians have done SO LITTLE to deserve your persecution. No, no. Cease your mocking laughter! I have embraced the awesome Power of Pasta. Reach Out and Touch Faith. Oh, Magnanimous Marinara, Spiritual Spaghetti. I am not worthy to receive your meat sauce, but only say the word and I shall be filled. Et Spiritu Sancti, Ramen.
The Boxster Will Prevail: Jason Kay refused to acknowledge my superior rhythmic prowess. Funkmeister, FUNKMEISTER! How can you ignore just how real my boogie feels?! I am convinced that you wedged the toe of your trainer beneath the heel of my Louis Vitton. I refuse to pay the ridiculous sum of your blackmail. I propose we settle this Old Skool Style. Germany approaches, Groucho. Boxster to Ferrari, engines wild, vroom, vroom. Expect a formal apology should I not prevail (WHICH IS HIGHLY UNLIKELY) plus monetary gratuity, all of which I will provide grudgingly. If you find yourself face down in a pool of silicone, understand that Christina Ricci does not accept defeat. Whine.
La Moisson! The ice age is coming and with it, the roots and nutritional fixtures of type. Let the tables of the culinary adept be ass-heavy with Autumn oats and grains. Vegetarians will rue the woeful passing of summer fruits and vegans will surely starve. But for us proud, heft-consuming carnivores, I will exclaim the question of the earth mother's before me: DONDE ESTA LA CARNE? Donde, indeed. I'd like to propose a solstice gathering in celebration of the arrival of fresh squash crops. In other words...NOUVEAU CRISTAL! Invitations will be hand delivered via street-side savant. I've contributed heavily to Katrina and find myself blissfully strapped for cash.
Pensées finales: On the subject of Katrina, we must all submit to the awesome power of mother nature. Tragedy frequently strikes unexpectedly and none of us are exempt to the Consequences Of. Only last week whilst I supervised Gupta cleaning the aquarium containing my Beta Fish, I watched, helpless, as Red Elvii nudged Blue Elvii from the murky waters and into the garbage disposal. Oh, life is cruel, children. But we must all learn to chuckle heartily at misfortune once the sting evaporates. For who would have thought that I would have the strength to jest about poor, poor Blue Elvii?
The Boxster Will Prevail: Jason Kay refused to acknowledge my superior rhythmic prowess. Funkmeister, FUNKMEISTER! How can you ignore just how real my boogie feels?! I am convinced that you wedged the toe of your trainer beneath the heel of my Louis Vitton. I refuse to pay the ridiculous sum of your blackmail. I propose we settle this Old Skool Style. Germany approaches, Groucho. Boxster to Ferrari, engines wild, vroom, vroom. Expect a formal apology should I not prevail (WHICH IS HIGHLY UNLIKELY) plus monetary gratuity, all of which I will provide grudgingly. If you find yourself face down in a pool of silicone, understand that Christina Ricci does not accept defeat. Whine.
La Moisson! The ice age is coming and with it, the roots and nutritional fixtures of type. Let the tables of the culinary adept be ass-heavy with Autumn oats and grains. Vegetarians will rue the woeful passing of summer fruits and vegans will surely starve. But for us proud, heft-consuming carnivores, I will exclaim the question of the earth mother's before me: DONDE ESTA LA CARNE? Donde, indeed. I'd like to propose a solstice gathering in celebration of the arrival of fresh squash crops. In other words...NOUVEAU CRISTAL! Invitations will be hand delivered via street-side savant. I've contributed heavily to Katrina and find myself blissfully strapped for cash.
Pensées finales: On the subject of Katrina, we must all submit to the awesome power of mother nature. Tragedy frequently strikes unexpectedly and none of us are exempt to the Consequences Of. Only last week whilst I supervised Gupta cleaning the aquarium containing my Beta Fish, I watched, helpless, as Red Elvii nudged Blue Elvii from the murky waters and into the garbage disposal. Oh, life is cruel, children. But we must all learn to chuckle heartily at misfortune once the sting evaporates. For who would have thought that I would have the strength to jest about poor, poor Blue Elvii?