I had a dream last night that a whole bunch of pickles were rallying below me as I was drinking Champagne from a plastic cup.
I had a weird hard on when I woke up.
I had some today at our local chicken restaurant. They use their own batter.
It's fucking delicious with Ranch dressing.
And I don't usually like pickles.
HOLY SHIT! I forgot to post on one one one one one one day.
This is a sign.
I have broken my promise to you all.
And I blame one one one one one one day.
But I must continue this promise.
I MUST.
"I'm a human being, I exist... and if I speak one thought aloud, that thought lives..."
"Delusions... to make you think you have a strength, when you have no strength at all!!! You are nothing, but spindly limbs and a dream, and The State has no use for your kind!!!!"
I just got some pickled green beans from a local farmer's wife, they are unbelievably good. They're pickled with jalapenos and garlic, I ate the whole jar in a day. Need to get a case of these babies.
He's (Obama) the President of Hate. He has magically allowed the blue monkeys to embrace hatred, to feel proud of it, to murder, to conquer. They never would have been able to take this step without him.
**Freign**
The first plane that crashed in the eleven towers was flight 11.
This was 11 years ago.
Today is the eleventh.
And I made a promise.
I blame two pickles standing side by side for this.