NAG knows a certain fjord in Norway, near where the cod gather in great shoals.
SIr Nose donated his ego to the Harvard Medical School for study.
Fors Yard figured that after two old dead guys in a row, this thread could use some currency.
This didn't come from Squish. It came through Squish from another force in nature.
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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