When I die, I want to be rasterized.

Chainsaws, nothing more.

Jesus lives.

I have schnauzers.

In my trousers.

In case of fire, banana peel?

Asparagus is not native to Earth; it grows under the ice on Europa.

Your toaster is calling you. Do not pick up.

I'd rather be turquoise, then wise.

Coffee, it bleeds.

More or less, plaster of paris wedged into a glowstick watches you speak.

Like a picture frame out of smells, i bought the color cheap, so i can eat it if i desire.

Without our cheese, we are nothing more than a pile of uranium waiting on our pine trees.

While sounding green, the elk wept like a ship at night.

What today has really boiled down to, for me, is that i would like to change my vote to "mechanical pencils".

Politics is an elephant's stapler.

Almond scented cyanide is pretty in the spring.

I have completed the tapir coop I was building from corrugated aluminium and sheet brass. Now I can get around to raising them for their luxuriant fur and delicious milk. Saint Ronald Reagan has smiled upon me.

If you have thirty-four revenge filled glasses of nitrate the rest of the respiratory action is without trouble. It is improbable that resplendence is solely quantifiable reasoning in conjunction with physical change.

Verily, it issues forth like chloroform from the mouths of those who would extract our heptane.

I cry noble gasses.

Fur trousers are yummy thoughts I love to wear.