"Hello. Welcome to cjmcjmcjmcjm's ugly house, the only house where octopi can be eaten whole."
With these words, my newlywed host offered me three glasses of beer. I accepted, but found swallowing difficult because my uvula is on fire.
T'is the end. It is nigh. We are doomed! The Grues incoming, ready the lamps, fetch the towels!
Thus ended the tense-confused tale that began when Ninetales' dapper visage farted and died.
To be continued...
Seven days after, I found myself playing a game of fizzbin against my only true bottle of champagne. The champagne said, "drink me please." True as it said, I drank the tempting wine only to find it much too sour, like a
frezik wrote:Anti-photons move at the speed of dark
DemonDeluxe wrote:Paying to have laws written that allow you to do what you want, is a lot cheaper than paying off the judge every time you want to get away with something shady.