FIRST I STOPPED BY CALIFORNIA TO GIVE RESPECT TO MY ANCESTORS BUT I GOT DISTRACTED BY THIS FUCKIN' FISH. I TRIED TO EAT HIM BUT IT WAS MADE OF WOOD. WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE!?
I MUST HAVE SOME MAD ADD BECAUSE I ALSO GOT DISTRACTED BY THIS AWESOME ASS ROLLER COASTER. IT WAS PRETTY FUN BUT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME.
I FOUND MY STUPID ASS ANCESTORS AND NEARLY DIED. WHAT THE FUCK CALIFORNIA?
I CONTINUED TO THE WEST UNTIL I FOUND THIS LARGE PIECE OF SHIT WALL. I COULD WALK RIGHT OVER THIS USELESS THING. WHAT THE FUCK???
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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