The question I'm trying to ask here is, how can I get this car to make sweet love to me?
Yeah I love it I'm sporting a huge boner as I type this!
This guy probably lives at home and works only to buy toys since his parents cut him off years ago in the hopes that he might leave someday. Why don't parents kick their kids out of the house anymore? Maybe this guy wouldn't be obsessed with robot car lizards or whatever the hell this LiveJournal community is about if his parents threw him out on his ass.
I feel bad for the car.
I don't even want to know where this is going.
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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