Please to be registering a name and then voting for us, we's be very grateful!
Out of the smog they came. From the depths of Hell and the widths of twilight did they stumble through. Oy, they were a sight. With the sunken brow and the bottle of beast, calling the shots was Morks McCormack, braggart and brawler extraordinaire. He once used his own mother as poker chips. She gave him a severe talking to on the drive home. The shifty-eyed fella nervously flickin' his penknife was Barbar the Black. His death count was over 20,000. But after burning your first anthill, life just ain't the same. You always hear the screams at night. Leaning quite literally into the corner waiting on a slug shake and a kettle of bark 'n saltbeef were the McMillan Brothers. Fistcuff Addlesby and Dave "The Wrecking Ball". One wrong look gets the offender slammed with a mouthful of concrete. They carry it in their pockets.
Yeah...they's a sorry bunch of low-ends, but when they do the nasty, it's tasty. That looks like it should rhyme, but it doesn't.
Stay in tune with nature, in due time there'll be something to put in your Compact Disc player..
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