Dry martini copes toward dramatic responses.
Smile, cornbread, and déjà vu;
Life deteriorates liberty.
Music wakes up the warm meat.
Examinations roughly desire a bruised rain reputation.
Some topics lie swiftly
beneath a never-ending acupuncture chapter.
Why is the old theory contradicting itself under the table?
The concepts of morality endure cold pretzels.
Wow! I never knew that a ghost elephant could be so sensitive.
Big descriptions on Bill Cosby
show negative signs of the Mississippi river.
Fabio would be thrill if midget Abraham Lincoln we’re to say;
“I can’t believe it’s not butter”.
Brilliance is a small annoying Davinci
who steals Charlie Chaplin’s Bowler hat.
Surrealism may be hard to beat,
but I got the Latin fever baking on my subconscious oven.
Misty, buoyant, and poetically displeased
I feel so anxiously to tell you a blissful philosophy hum-drum.
Criticism reminds me of when I got my first yo-yo.
Where is Mona Lisa’s brain-stained refrigerated?
Lord only knows if those wild futuristic zombies
haven’t already eaten roughly a cooked i-phone.
My chest-nuts somewhat resemble David Duchovny
but the moon landing was the best piece of science fiction
ever written by man himself.
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