Nov 04, 2012 17:00
Inky binky bonky, Daddy had a donkey. Donkey died, Daddy cried, inky binky bonky.
I don't know about you, but I can't seem to find a shred of an old shirt I haven't already shirked. Beta carotene be damned, I will not eat those yams. Poets piss in a pot of potatoes, and panic rises in their expanding irises (and diminishing pupils) as they realize the extent of the awkwardness that will ensue.
Can't fight the fainting goats.