Quote (originally posted by
AbsoluteZer0):
That's what she said...before I asked her out. True story. >_>
Yeah. Cows. They're like all "moo" and crap. I don't get it. I mean honesty? Couldn't they be like "moooo-who-what-the-heck-is-with-that-crazy-hair-doo-dude?-it-looks-like-poo-foo-don't-eat-my-stew-drew-or-else-I'll-rhympe-with-you-about-boos-at-the-Taramazoo-zoo-and-scream-"YAHHOOOO!!!!"
Yeah, cows. I'll never understand. Kinda like this one person I once met at this one place. They like had a shotgun and chased me. So I was like "WTF?" I'm being chased by a shotgun? Then I was like "WHOOOA!!! I'm stupid! It's not that bad. I'm not being chased by a shotgun. I'm only being chased by an incredibly fat dude with a shotgun. Oh crap. I just remembered. Shotguns can't move on their own. Holy crap. Am I going insane? I think I might need some sort of specialist. Hopefully they don't have rooms for 'my kind' like I always tell all them articulant-ulant-debrant-Grant fool folks they belongs in. Holy crap my southern (typing) accent is showing up. AHH! ruN FROM IT! the FEAr! AHHH! Actually I thought The End was a way better boss, and a way better Boss Battle. Best Boss Battle ever. But you still gotta love The Boss. Respect the Boss. The Boss is boss of the boss in the bos of the boss in boss boss of boss boss of boss boss boss boss...boss. And Big Boss. he's like the boss, but bigger. And he's the boss of the boss in the boss in bossidy boss bossidy boss boos boss boss boss boss...holy crap. Is he an alcholic? Alcholism isn't good for your brain. That's what my mommy tells me. Or at least that's what my brain tells me she tells me. Kinda like how my brain tells me to always lick people to say hello and to always tell people to go kill themselves if I want to show them I care about them, or how my brain always tells me to pick my nose in front of girls who I think are hot. Yeah. My brain is smart I think. Or do I think? Can I think? Am I really thinking? Think. Must think Must try to think. Must try to try to think. Must try to try to try to try to try to try to try to try to break an eye in the pie while reading the Catcher in the Rye while trying to think. Thinkidy think think. Ergh. I give up. I'ma gonna go eat some apple pie. Mhmmm...so appley...and piey...yum! It tastes good, kinda like your mother at night.......assuming she was an edible piece of pecan pie. Yeah. Pecan pie. So pecanny...and piey. Yeah. It makes me happy. Kinda like butterflies....that run into my windowshield. They remind me why I'm happy about being happy about being happy about being happy about being happy about being happy about happy...being. Happy. Scrappy. Crappy. HAHA! I CAN RHYME LIKE THE BIG TIMES! YEAH!!!!
Moo.
And so now I must leave you all with this last comment: Food that smells like crap. has flies and insects all over it, and has this wierd greenish-blue stuff growning on it always taste the best. It's so yummy....mhhmmm!!! :D
*Warning: If you actually read or typed this all you are probably clincally insane. Go seek help immediately by soiling your pants and running into as many poles as you can while running as fast as you can. And if you took this all seriously then I recommend giving me $900 right now...please? It'll make you feel better, happier. And it'll make me richer. yeah? I don't know. Back to the cows. They say moo. It's so awesome, AMIRITE!?!?!?!!?!?*