I Ought To Come Up There And

I Don't Give A Crap If You're A Tangent Or A Really Smart Llama. You're My Friend And That's All That Matters

I Love The Sound Of It," Trina Whispers, As If Speaking Too Loudly Might Interrupt The Drumming Patter Of The Rain Outside. "it Makes Me Want To Sleep. Snuggle My Head Right Up In Your Armpit And Snore For Three Days." "my Armpit?" Mark Repeats. "good Thing We All Showered Up In The Storm This Morning. My Pits Smell Like Roses. Go Ahead And Get Comfy.

Next Time I'll Pat You On The Freaking Back For Stating The Obvious.

Such A Display Of Death - How Could It Be Considered A Victory?

Good Try, Ya Bugging Shank. The Gathering Elects Runners, And If You Think I'm Tough, They'd Laugh In Your Face.