My trousers are combed and my paws are chalked. I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille!
I want it!
He carried it on his shoulders, the knowledge that one day, the planet he calls home would be engulfed in a collapsing sun. All trace of anything he ever knew would be erased.
To know this and to still walk around concerned trivialities such as the accumulation of his bank account or how others perceived him was the great absurdity of his supposedly modern life.
We have our first contestant!! *overly dramatic deep voice* LET THE GAAAMESSS BEEEEGINNNNNN!!! #MayTheCorgsBeEverInYourFavor
I need a corgi, stat!
Full ass one thing.
@nuggetthepembroke Submitted my f-erocity.
Mrs. Doubtfire: Sink the sub. Hide the weasel. Park the porpoise. A bit of the old Humpty Dumpty, Little Jack Horny, the Horizontal Mambo, hmm? The Bone Dancer, Rumpleforeskin, Baloney Bop, a bit of the old Cunning Linguistics?
Stu: Mrs. Doubtfire, please.
Mrs. Doubtfire: Oh I’m sorry, am I being a little graphic? I’m sorry. Well, I hope you’re up for a little competition. She’s got a power tool in the bedroom, dear. It’s her own personal jackhammer. She could break sidewalk with that thing. She uses it and the lights dim, it’s like a prison movie. Amazed she hasn’t chipped her teeth.
My heart hurts.