i don't know what to write. i clicked the

i don't know what to write. i clicked the create button for no good reason. should i tell a tale of aleins or giant monsters? romance or war? eh, romance is stupid, so i'll make war

first sight. She's the biggest, juiciest, most desirable papaya he had ever seen. He instantly falls head over heels. He'll eventually discover that she wasn't actually a papaya,

It'll probably be her yelling at him, "Hey, stop staring at my vag. My eyes are up here, buddy," that will do the trick. He was always caught crotch watching on the job, which made

the journey for his eyes so much the better than if he was just a boob guy. Being a vag-fiend, he got three shows for the price of one whens someone caught him looking. She kicked

back onto the couch they had on stage, legs spread. This drove him wild. The police were called. Everyone would have to be paid off. Senator Romulus could not have any distractions

and we were all in danger. Meanwhile, Jack studied the toast of his sandwich. It was like the Senator to bring everything down around them yet walk free. The cops

were gathering up office papers before they could be shredded. Dumb cops. they didn't realize the Senator send covert orders on toast.. I smiled as I ate my BLT on toast. Message

destruct... Suddenly Detective Jason Manatee yelled "Flanigan quick! The Heimlich! Before the evidence is digested!"... I could eat all the toast I wanted in Jail, sans BL.

I don't know why I was prohibited from eating the British Library during my sentence. I had no intention to eat it. It's not even edible. Prison sure is a weird place.