Travesty chops, anyone?
Milk my tits.
You can't avoid it; I am a clam.
My handlebars emanate plastic vibrations :):):):):)
Okay, so I have this little hammer and I have big plans with the hammer. Okay so here it is: I have these chairs and my legs fall over them like big fat waterfall legs. Grasp my cauldron of filth, you win, I can snatch things from you and use them to interpret other things so that I can derive information and use it toward some survival tactic, because if I died that would be bad, uhuh uhuh, yeah.
Kcik.
Magnify something made of wood, and watch the light push up through folds and folds and folds of billowing black cloth. Bury my trachea deep in the soil, rush through the air, brush with death, breathe so deeply that you melt metallically and transmute into tunnels. The end.
