Hollering defiantly at mustard bottles, making babies grin, eating all manner of horrible things, tearing doors apart with my bare hands, runnings through the woods gleefully, and of course, glaring at sand castles and feeding robots candy.
Georg Bush when he's really drunk, I think our conversation would be amusing and enlightening for himself. Wait, scratch that. Also Stalin, he really needs to meet up with that furious Gibbon in a one on one bout of ungloved fisticuffmanship. Lastly, Boogie woogie woo.
No lights?
The one where that guy says something and then some stuff blows up and then there's some Russian guy hollering for some Stoli and then the aliens invade and they're really allergic to the zombies who in reality apparently really feel bad about their addiction to the tender, moist, deliscious brain meats....
I just ate one last week.
Books, ah yes, I have heard of these esoteric things, I hear they contain great knowledge, and with it,...POWER! but one has to be wary, with the power and knowledge also comes great.....DAAANGER
Still Thompson and Vonnegut, I'd also like to send a nod towards that little red squirrel, Rudy, when I lived in Gardiner, how the hell you managed to live so long,... I will never know. Poor simple lad, he's probably hanging out with poor Pfc O'Leary now,...I told him his fascination with chewing on grenades would never end well,...