One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it
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Current time: November 17, 2024, 11:29 am
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Continuous sentence game
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One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass.
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One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they where going to
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they where going to export malt barley below cost price
.
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate If you're not supposed to ride faster than your guardian angel can fly then mine had better get a bloody SR-71.
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing
Comparing the Universal Oneness of All Life to Yo Mama since 2010.
I was born with the gift of laughter and a sense the world is mad.
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong
One day while I was whacking off to World of Warcraft Playing Choir boys who looked like an amorphous, undulating blobs of macaroni and suddenly I felt my bile rise up into the swimming pool outside, in which floated in orange flat sandals a body, the likes of which none had seen and I farted in surprise at the sheer exhilaration of it all but suffered a blow back which hugged the questionnaire/jizz-rag stapled to a french man named Nicholas Sarkozy who then ate his own face for a thrill which made me wonder why I slept with your ugly, inbred, halfwitted hound from hell named Cerebus (sic) who was a Media Studies graduate from a cleansed sewer now converted into a preposterous hellish version of night and day where fire-breathing armadillos drink copious quantities of communion wine from a priest's innocent boy love severed testical cup of catholic joy that the pope donated to WSPA for no particular reason apart from that John McCain felt it in the ass. oh no! full stop!!!!
Meanwhile, on the dark side of the moon a race of penguinoid aliens had just hatched a fiendish plan, they were going to export malt barley below cost price and three words, What The Fuck, managed to encapsulate the whole thing then went wrong, but fortunately a man named Dotard arrived and
Intelligence is the only true moral guide...
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