Let's talk about some of the things you think you saw in Mommy and Daddy's room last night when you opened the door without knocking which you should never, ever do. First, start by drawing what you think you saw. Sort of an overview or summary. You don't have to get into the extreme details now.
Very nice. Verrrrry nice. Mommy and Daddy were definitely not mad, mad at you, hurting each other, it's not your fault, they're not getting a divorce, and the bee man was their friend. Probably.
Let's take a closer look at some of the things going on last night. Do you have any questions? And I mean you, not me.
No idea. Next.
A bird? Not sure, that drawing is really a piece of bullshit. Can you be more specific? What was it doing? Was it making any calls?
A gun. That was Daddy's gun. The one he keeps inside his stomach. His secret gun.
Yes, but you have to understand that bee man was going to help them, not hurt them.
Ferguson's long arm of the law laments the latest cutback.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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