In the PLOS ONE article titled, “The Pied Piper: A Parasitic Beetle’s Melodies Modulate Ant Behaviors”, this tale of deceit is explained through careful scientific investigation. Are you god of this anthill? Are you Atom Ant? Who are you?
Mr. October decided to close up shop once by putting a cock on my doorstep. Did I tell you about that? I can’t remember. Someone had me convinced to make a basket and put chicken feed out for it, but by the time I got around to putting in the work... the cock was gone.
I didn’t even realize I was a throwaway floater squirrel scout. I didn’t know there was an uncle. But alas, I swallowed the raven naked and afraid. I’ve been accused so many times of being a legend. I keep thinking they are mocking what The Based God said to me, but how would they know? Does everyone receive the same message or are they individually tailored. Shh! This guy said he was #based so I sent him a free signed Christmas card not during Christmas once. What? I was being a nice person. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a nice person and I’m pretty sure it only cost me 50 cents to send it to Ireland. I mean costed; no cost.. costed.. cost. I hope that guy felt special.
I AM THE DRY CLEANERS EXCEPT THESE PEOPLE NEED TO PAY ME!
YOU ARE THE LAUNDROMAT.
His hobby is cut-outs except he didn’t know who he was fucking with.
Can you Connecticut a Virginia Class Submarine to the Key West? C’mon, woman. It’s obvious, isn’t it? Do you feel crazy yet? I hear there’s a pill for that, but you can only get them at Dollar General in the metal slot at the bottom under the tomato soup. Thanks, but I don’t eat candy from off of the ground.
“I’m no Queen Bea, I’m Beyoncé and I’m dating Pennywise!,” she said apparently and allegedly. Well, fine. Whatever. Clown around together. Be friends. Laugh. Those are all good things. I’ll stay in my room and try to avoid wreckless nuts and cuck someone else. Can you handle that Seabisuit?
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