Seems like everytime I run across an Interstate Highway someone hits me doing, like, 80 miles an hour. There are SPEED LIMITS, people. My dog ate a Korean. I found out that my neighbor likes to keep to himself. He wouldn't explain why he's digging holes in his crawl space. That can over there to the right is my friend Billy's own personal beer. He drinks it and has beer farts that would propel most men to the moon, but he wears gravity boots. I smoked a salmon. Do you have any idea how many cigarette papers that takes? Damn, went to the store for more robot parts, and forgot Draino.
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