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An ugly duckling on the rampage: ‘oh stop it’, said the ducks as they stuffed a teddy with the end of saving Private Ryan. The tape was firmly stuck upon the back of the ominously ticking and yet somehow suicidal lady bird, performing linking rings with nothing but a toothbrush and a very reluctant kipper with legs. It was only 5.99 but never tasted better. Sadly, there was no caramel in the new wispa gold; that made me enter a coma. I meant comma. Is that it, let’s hope so, then everyone died during hot sex because of ducky aka Ricky Martin, and a lemon was inserted up somewhere unpleasant Abba’s Benny Anderson which is disgusting. So after that they died again, and again and the world imploded then exploded which prevented all attempts to destroy ducky again and again then everyone died. The end. Until... everyone died again.
‘Goodbye cruel world’ said the suicidal postage stamp. Then, books not DVDs are much more nutritious when fresh because they contain pro-argen formula. ‘Ah ha- said spooney the goon as he picked his nose and scratched his llama’s nostril hair and so Eshly’s death, just for a short time. Which was nice, considering that the youngster’s knees trembled at Alton towers which resulted in a truly magnificent and very quick, altogether most amazing, but quite ridiculous, although very understandable and potentially offensive, one and only, genuinely quite disturbing, but somehow reassuring massive diarrheal attack which destroyed the universe. The end... or perhaps not: it definitely was not the end at all because everyone found out what was inside Hally Berry’s Brain and it was... quite, quite disturbing as it was.....