Devil bunnies! I snort the nose, Lucifer! Banana! Banana!

I’ve seen the midget. I’ve drunk his juice. 

Why keep it in my mouth if it’s revolting?

How do thirst walk the thirst drink eat zombie the food? Having problems reloading the zombie after dark. 

From now on, every word in my mouth is a riposte to the Victorian waltz. 

The internet killed professional flatulence.