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OP is old, obese and a got.
I sense a great pain emanating from the grease coated alley ways and pink flamingo infested homes of the deserts of North Mexico. There is such a great pain there, a desperate, unfulfilled longing, hopelessness and great wailing tonight.
Set these trivial things aside that trouble you, my darker skinned pilots of the zero turn radius grass machines... you wielders the tubular air moving backpack weapons, Lawn Jedi that you are. These are only childish games, like hopscotch or kickball. Think not that they are anything else. These outcomes do not in any way reflect upon your good people and their successes. There's nothing any game like that could do to change the outlook of you river crossers, you dried bean carriers who cross great private hunting leases to get to your own Sha-ka-rees, often in the forms of a caulking gun or a five gallon bucket of paint.
Walk a while with me, as your pain runs deeper than that river you crossed to get to this side. Share with me that pain and from that sharing gain strength. The summer is upon you, grasses are growing as we speak so tarry not with trivial matters such as these, but neither shall you feign understanding for the sake of expediency. Take your time, let it out slowly
LLAP and in memory of my brother Spock,
Sy
OP is old, obese and a got.
Agreed.
How many alts is fat hands going to post with tonight?
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