Something something Schrodinger Oil.
Something something Schrodinger Oil.
It’s wine…made by the stomped corpses of his enemies.
No one asked about your mother.
With more than one, a union can be formed. So, no.
I knew it too. I pounded her last night.
Nature cared so much about this questions that it gave sentience to itself to think about it.
“Remember who you are.”
Life will not be the same after this.
A close elevator is now an excusite art gallery.
My basketball team used to do great fart performances in the van before the out-games. Truly amazing people. Material for Fartonauts.
Yeah…the new Dumbass Of Government Efficiency (DOGE) will be right on that. Top priority…I’m sure…