Where’s the soldering gun?Where’s my surgical mask?Oily rags in a mountain,how many bags full of plastic tasks?I got a tattoo on the back of my eyelids,and the dorm is trashed like my dad said.
I’m not interested in tipping youafter you lick my shoelaces.I went over my receipts,as bad as a CGI fish.They had those Jello edges,the corners turned to plastic.
When the gum’s all gone hard,you’ll have to switch to chewing roots.You can even get cubes of semi-soft lardwith the mouthfeel of Big League Chew.
Off-brand sprinkles, moping father of the bride,a rabbit-ear course in basic electricswas all it took to watch the My Buddy genocide.Your stomach was lined with Almond Joys.