If anyone has the gall to suggest I cook and consume my logs of mystery meat in any other fashion, I will promptly throw it at you.
It smells like a campfire in here now. Makes me want to roast a hot dog... Too late for that now, as it's already out. Such a travesty, I know. How will I ever go on living in such a sad, lonesome, roasted hot dog-less state? Woe is me.
-
-
Show this thread
-
What does "it" refer to, you might ask? The hot dog? Nay, the fire! I shall dig my bare hands into the hot, flaming coals and throw them upon you! It is the only way I know to deal with heretics who allow such blasphemy to fly from their wretched mouths! Or you know whatever I du
Show this thread
End of conversation
New conversation -
Loading seems to be taking a while.
Twitter may be over capacity or experiencing a momentary hiccup. Try again or visit Twitter Status for more information.