All food gets better warmer or wetter; there are no exceptions. It is a travesty that more people don’t have custom ringtones. No good art came out before the release of the 2004 animated film Shark Tale. You don’t know for sure you won’t need your wisdom teeth and to assume otherwise is arrogant. Songs should be shorter, probably around sixty seconds. The ocean is a kind of soup (water, meat, vegetables) and every year the Earth gets warmer this gets truer. Moist isn’t that gross of a word, you just heard someone else say that. All people can be explained by asking if they’d rather be Britney Spears in 2002 or Lindsay Lohan in 2002. Movies are better consumed through Wikipedia plot synopses. We ought to eat more kinds of food with our hands. Love may be the chemicals but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful. The same goes for sadness. I should be able to order a bowl of just the steak from Chipotle without people making fun of me. You and I are children of this universe, made of the same stuff as the dirt and the stars; I say you hold my hand and we float down the big soup like otters.
All food gets better warmer or wetter; there are no exceptions. It is a travesty that more people don’t have custom ringtones. No good art came out before the release of the 2004 animated film Shark Tale. You don’t know for sure you won’t need your wisdom teeth and to assume otherwise is arrogant. Songs should be shorter, probably around sixty seconds. The ocean is a kind of soup (water, meat, vegetables) and every year the Earth gets warmer this gets truer. Moist isn’t that gross of a word, you just heard someone else say that. All people can be explained by asking if they’d rather be Britney Spears in 2002 or Lindsay Lohan in 2002. Movies are better consumed through Wikipedia plot synopses. We ought to eat more kinds of food with our hands. Love may be the chemicals but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful. The same goes for sadness. I should be able to order a bowl of just the steak from Chipotle without people making fun of me. You and I are children of this universe, made of the same stuff as the dirt and the stars; I say you hold my hand and we float down the big soup like otters.