When it comes to only a choice between unmedicated

When it comes to only a choice between unmedicated goo and coagulated dust, I am reluctant to express any preference. Are you certain no other means of entry and exit is available?
Is what Tim had finally asked his wife. His younger wife. His Christian wife. His pissed-off wife. She arched an eyebrow and spit, "You sick fuck. Entry and Exit? What kind of
Harry Potter-hating, Halloween-hiding-from, homophobic, science-denying, God-fearing Baptist are you?" He looked at his Christian wife a moment and considered his answer carefully.
Picking up his gold-plated bible, he swept it behind his ear before delivering a decisive blow. She dropped like the walls of Jericho. "Thou shalt respect thy husband, lest thy be
cookie," the Bible dude ranted. He had stopped making sense some time ago and had no grip on reality. She now had the option to take him out or let the world suffer further. After
considering her options, she sold him to an alien zoo in exchange for bowl enchanted to always be full of watermelon Jolly Ranchers.
Truth be told, a bowl ever full of watermelon Jolly Ranchers got to be a bit tedious, her visits to the dentist, more frequent and her teeth increasingly spongy. She didn't
need to use scouring pads or big orange sponges for cleaning the tub and shower anymore. Now all she had to do was scrub the surface with her gums. The only problem was
that her nose got in the way. She'd always wanted a cute 2mm long turned up nose, so she had cosmetic surgery. Now she could use her gums to scrub the tub with unprecedented zest.
Noone had ever scrubbed a tub - rub a dub dub - with gums full of suds - then she pulled the plug - chug a lug - down went her periodontal rub. Now her nostrils were the plug. Glug

Started: 2011-07-09 10:26:12
Finished: 2014-08-13 01:53:53

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