I did appreciate that one enterprising lass erected her own computer-TV tribute to my strapping countryman David Beckham.
Some provocateur generated a randy Sapphic portrait that I dare not reproduce, and even now blush to conjure -- would that the riddling effects of age could rob me of that wanton memory, rather than stripping my treasured recollections of halcyon days! Any road, while I found this imagery a bit tawdry, others declared it ace.
Alack, the banter wasn't always so bloody chipper. This poor urchin seems to abide the Dickensian squalor of child-labour camp, though she fancies herself skillful enough with the song and dance to win a role in Oliver!
More fake science from the mainstream scientists: Dr. Schrodinger claims cat is dead, but cat is alive and a dog.
Yeah, I went there. And I'll go there again. Don't believe me? I'm there ALREADY.
These all just look like normal cats to me.
From what I understand, this genre is about getting eaten by crocodiles. I excel at this.
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