The puke stained bloodbucket attached to the pointy axe of happiness decapitated it's ninth virgin of the day, and by the 11th hour, no bones were left for the children to play with. So they lined up all the tombstones in the studio to attract grave robbers to torture and strip the skin off of the mailman while the niece is taking a mustard shower in the crossbow closet. The blood from the slaughter must be allowed to drip back into the frosted meatpan of wonder, or the iceberg demon will return and blow unholy cheese bricks at the bank of river chunks.
OAR is appetitious.
by the big fetneen August 07, 2011