Hate to rain on your raft, but you love on the daft. So just sit down and eat your brunch. Ba-ounch.
Do you wear a tiny hat?
You must have a tiny head.
Which means that a tiny brain would follow.
Like this...
You must be very dumb.
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I like that guy more than any variety garden variety snack. And that's saying a lot, because there's nothing like a good peanut butter sandwich.
So how did you know I'd slapped the mouse?
Was it the big dog, in his doghouse?
Was it the piper, blowing his pipe?
Was it the rotten apple, so over ripe?
Was it the principal with the furrowed brow?
Or was it the really bad poem that you're reading right now?
I tread in the I oven. Never the J sink. Gross.
Two spaces.
Three spaces.
Five spaces.
Many, many spaces.
And now, something completely different:
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And don't think anything's ever as...
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Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school. Fuck school.
That was Qo, channeling Finbar energy.
And now back to Qo.