it
was
a
turducken formed on the T/r/opical
Sunny day of the Easter mourn with
the chocolate/cake that dad left me
not eat for the mourn.
A cake-less variety of man which
ALONE one cat could not eat,
but the Cake® isn't a lie, but Lying
is the cakE with the pudding
pops. To arms! Bear Arms!
Bear arms with fuzz and fur and warm
on the tooth-less rock garden.
Thus speakth the deepth thinkerth:
1337 teh awsom CH0C0LATE!!!!
gratz ftw & wtf roflcopter lmao
total noob - omg lulz dis tpic is so 1337
zomg NO000O0O0OOOO0!!1!11
lol can ne1 tel mee
how 2 post heeroes?
HEADSHOT!1!!!!11111.
And the lying down Cake® takes no answer
for no and waltzes through the
SG1 with no c.s. Lewis behind him to guide
to the magic place of wonder,: Candy Mountain.
THEY TOOK MY FUCKING kidneys. I need those
why would they do such and evil act
with the dancing and the singing and the magical
leoplaridon. Why has not spoketh the Caketh®?
All that remains is the disturbed faktion.
Evans blue matches to the Black Parade
with the Snow Patrol and a DragonForce.
No cs games to play with the sniping and the camping
and the fuckin assholes who are complete and utter
worthless dicks... damn them, damn them to hell and the horse
they rode in on.
It
was
a
turduckin in the form of a Cake
with no icing and no marbled stone
to chew one damn it all
I hate them wabbits and the carrots.
HEADSHOT!1!!!1!!!!!1!1!111?
No comments:
Post a Comment