Your best is an idiot! Spare me your space age technobabble, Attila the Hun! We need rest. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised. With a warning label this big, you know they gotta be fun! I barely knew Philip, but as a clergyman I have no problem telling his most intimate friends all about him. Michelle, I don’t regret this, but I both rue and lament it. I’m a thing. Shinier than yours, meatbag.
So I really am important? How I feel when I’m drunk is correct? Does anybody else feel jealous and aroused and worried? Oh, I always feared he might run off like this. Why, why, why didn’t I break his legs?