Who is this strange man that keeps telling me you're stuck in a gogurt tube & require the services of a handsome kar-toof-fel-poof-fer?
I'm a bird, hear me chirp.
I'm not being cocky. It's only my low self esteem at an all time high.
In an alternate universe, happy could really mean sandwich. Or burrito.
Being in poly makes me almost forget about my dream of becoming a bird.
He's got hair that says "Well hey, maybe shower didn't happen the last 5 nights."
I want to poke you with this bendy straw & not face the consequence of retaliation.
I'm not yet war equipped.
Today's last word in is of Tom explaining my sketch of us up here:
"Khai put sunglasses on my face because she's too lazy to draw eyes. She drew very inaccurately, but nobody gives a shit 'round here."