...at least I used to be a storm, but now I'm slowing down.
Well, it’s a deep-throated yowl that all cats seem to feel a need to let out at least once a year. Imagine, if you will, a kitten’s mew, then amplify it 100 times and shift its sound from soprano to bass, like really something you wouldn’t figure could come from such a small instrument.
Could’ve been worse. He could’ve been changed to an ant and permanently attached to the front of the boat.
But they hum while they eat, tricking some into believing they’re hummingbirds.
Yeah, the packets should be saved until you have enough to add to a public water display, turning it into something approaching jello.
Sleipnir, Odin’s horse.
Kid #2: “No! I’ve got a better idea! I’m gon-“
Kid #1: “Sh!t, don’t say you’re gonna dress up as the president.”
Kid #2: “Naaah, a golden babboon with my dad’s necktie.”
Kid #1: “Same sh!t, sam-“
Kid #2: “Fake news! FAKE NEWS!”
D@mn right on that.
Yeah yeah, depending on whom he hitches a ride with, he may find himself regretting his departure on line to Punkin Chunkin.
The blue feet don’t seem to phaze ‘em. Or the feathers. Or the— Never mind, then.
‘Fantastic,’ one chicken was heard to say to another, ‘not ending up at Chick-Fil-A means we don’t have to go to chicken church.’ His compatriot leveled him with a stare, saying, ‘They don’t have chicken church there on Sundays.’ ‘Even better,’ the first replied, ‘as I was hoping to go to a bar mitzvah next month, so I—‘ At this point, the second one clamped firsty’s beak and tossed him into traffic.