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To the extent that I am not wearing pants is the extent to which my thoughts yet again return to Yoda.
I am risen, born of the flesh, torn of the soul. Yoda, fly with me to Bounty Land. I AM your sweet sugar candy-man.
Oooo…. Getting married in a cemetery would be cool… … and I’m fine… just nursing a slight… um…. aftermath of overindulgence…
Hey meow-meow kitty. Going to the cem..e..tary, and I'm gonna get ma..a..rr..ied. Well, maybe not, but I'll be taking flowers. How about you? Ah hell, I'm leaving anyway. Ciao!