Excerpt(s!) from The Common Sense Bible: I didn't come with an owners manual
I've always called them crow's or blackbirds at the very least, that is if it was a smaller avis like simon, you know the bird with the candybar head...
But Pelletgreengo and Wisesac called the bastard camp robbing mongrels 'Jackdaws', what the cornstarch is a jackdaw? Well we butted heads about it alot, then Sally said its not moist or drippy.
Jackdaw, crow, jackdaw, crow, jackdaw ill kill you, crow, crow, crow.
No ammount of cranapple could change its rotation, or the fact that even though it was the middle of the day, they still served breakfast.
Whores, nothing but whores running the drive up window, and jackdaws.
...and sometimes late at night he'd call ex-girlfriends, tell them he won the lottery and that their head sucked, laugh and hang up.
Suction cups should never be used in dangerous situations, except by a highly trained suction cup professional.
add some Fresh Cilantro leaves, you know, for garnish.
This recipe was provided by professional chefs and has been scaled down from a bulk recipe provided by a restaurant. The chefs here have not tested this recipe, in the proportions indicated, and therefore, we cannot make any representation as to the results.
Bobby wasn't like the other boys, he had stinky areolas.
Twice a day he'd slip into the locker room to re-apply Old Spice to his ever hardening and stank mammaries.
i think yer thinking way too much about what you think you thought should be done but in thinking that you probably misunderstood what you thought you knew you were thinking so you might want to back peddle and maybe rethink it and then let us all know yer thoughts... or just think about it and keep it to yerself is what I think or thunk I think.
...the chili pepper is only a conveyance, a vessel, the pepper isn't whats important here, nevermind the Laosian ladyboy either, cheese will run out any hole you cut, you better start crackin johnny cuz the puddin' ain't getting in there on its own.
Not much was ever written about Blitzen, Santa's wayward thug-deer. When not pulling a sleigh or participating in all the other reindeer's games Blitzen could be found in Santa's Sweatshop bitch-hoofing the elves into submission.
So obsessed with Leonardo da Vinci he mimicked his paintings, failed trying to re-invent da Vinci's contraptions, had a butterfly tattoo'd on his lower back with the words 'Renaissance Man' blazing in fiery letters across the insects wings, and he even cut off his own ear and mailed it to the editor's at Field & Stream, yes he wasn't a very bright man.
A bad dream it had to have been, raisins and sweet dill pickles adorned the coleslaw. Her mother was insane about colors matching even if it meant making yin-yang salads out of mandarin oranges and cottage cheese. Even the cake had pubic hairs, chocolate pubic hairs, but who could resist all this, it matched, everything was symmetrical, both light and dark were represented, east and west, paper and plastic, chaotic good and lawful evil, thank god I brought my 20 sided dice...
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