and you make my lamps useless
My intimate relationship with a black hole ended poorly.
"You know I love you. But baby, your super-dense core creates a gravity field that stretches my body matter into infinitely long threads of molecular material."
My intimate relationship with a black hole ended poorly.
There is no longer any question in my mind. Efforts to rationalize my observations are pointless, for all evidence points to one frightening truth:
They are all out to get me.
Better Off Dead.
I just don't get the appeal. The only good parts are the skiing sequences. And mountains in Illinois? Hardly.
Warning Signs of Lycanthropy:
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