This randomness is wearing thin, V for Vendetta foretold the London bombings. I am but a shadow here lies Uncle Sin.
Pass me the salt, you are a slug I am a pest.
Suffer the weary, all saints please rise, give ear to my pleadings, and open up your eyes.
Push the button, the red one, the death one, the blood one, the cold one, the evil one.
One day war will come, blog that! Bunker down and brace yourself for some wicked blogging. This night I will write the worlds greatest blog, oh you hell-hounds, you dogs of war, you killers of the innocent.
Passion fruit? Why the name? Is it really that passionate? Why can't an apple be a passion fruit, I saw my friend nearly making love to one last night.
And I am but a man, build me bigger barns, rust is not my friend. Perhaps barns or sheds are not the best methods for storing, I guess barns are like warehouses. Why not build a statue? You can live forever in some bronze.
I, me. Only I. Not you or they, not even we. Why paint the kettle black when we can have some tea.