Carly and I are totally making the best band ever, and we need three more people to be in it. We decided it should be comprised only of nonconventional string instruments, which we would each choose and then devote ourselves to learning, so thus far the lineup is:
My boss let me go home early for no reason at all. What trickery is this? If the cosmos is in its usual state of semi-working order, something terrible must result from this. Like that one episode of Buffy. You know. With like. Jonathan. Superstar!
I have one hour and fifteen minutes before I have to go to Spanish I. What the hell should I do with
The list of ingredients on the wrapper promises me such amenities as "lettuce" and "tomato" and even "black pepper" but I see no evidence that this sandwich possesses any of these.
Inky Molina: You know smores? With marshmallow and grahmgnghdg crackers and chocolate? Ok so imagine smoths. It's smores, but with a dead moth replacing either the marshmallow or the chocolate. Smoths. SMOTHS
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