the SPOOKY aftonsparv

if i ever did drag i would wear a nice starched three-piece suit in dark gray and wear a light pink tie. there are various large gray blocks scattered around the stage. one has a rotary telephone on top. i slowly romantically roll up my suit sleeves. and place two blocks front and center side by side. and then i take off the suit jacket, revealing my waistcoat and pressed white shirt. i neatly fold the waistcoat and set it in the corner. and i stack a block on top of each of those original ones. i gently loosen my tie and roll up the sleeves of the shirt. and stack two more blocks. and then i roll up the sleeves of the shirt. and stack two more blocks. and then i loosen the tie even more. two more blocks. and then i start undoing the shirt buttons. two more blocks. and then i sluttily remove the waistcoat and set it on top of the suit jacket. two more blocks. and then before i can remove my shirt, a cardboard cutout of a plane appears. i observe it shockingly. i scramble to redress, and as i redress, sluttily, the plane hits the first tower. i have everything on properly except the suit jacket which is sluttily throw over my shoulders. i pick up the telephone. they hit the second tower. i sluttily stage whisper this information into the phone. the whole time, man made object by lemon demon is playing. as the twin towers fall, i sluttily collapse under them. my back is resting on the ground as my head hangs off the side of the stage, facing the audience, and slowly close my eyes, sluttily, of course.

who up joy and gladnessing in the club tonighttttttt let’s get unfucked upppp togetherrrrrrr

i kiss you gently on the lips and walk about six feet away and then turn around and say “catch!” and seductively wink at you before an inconceivably large slab of salmon falls on your head

if i ever did drag i would wear a nice starched three-piece suit in dark gray and wear a light pink tie. there are various large gray blocks scattered around the stage. one has a rotary telephone on top. i slowly romantically roll up my suit sleeves. and place two blocks front and center side by side. and then i take off the suit jacket, revealing my waistcoat and pressed white shirt. i neatly fold the waistcoat and set it in the corner. and i stack a block on top of each of those original ones. i gently loosen my tie and roll up the sleeves of the shirt. and stack two more blocks. and then i roll up the sleeves of the shirt. and stack two more blocks. and then i loosen the tie even more. two more blocks. and then i start undoing the shirt buttons. two more blocks. and then i sluttily remove the waistcoat and set it on top of the suit jacket. two more blocks. and then before i can remove my shirt, a cardboard cutout of a plane appears. i observe it shockingly. i scramble to redress, and as i redress, sluttily, the plane hits the first tower. i have everything on properly except the suit jacket which is sluttily throw over my shoulders. i pick up the telephone. they hit the second tower. i sluttily stage whisper this information into the phone. the whole time, man made object by lemon demon is playing. as the twin towers fall, i sluttily collapse under them. my back is resting on the ground as my head hangs off the side of the stage, facing the audience, and slowly close my eyes, sluttily, of course.

i kiss you gently on the lips and walk about six feet away and then turn around and say “catch!” and seductively wink at you before an inconceivably large slab of salmon falls on your head

nice outfit LOSER. 1443 called but in a dialect of Early Modern English that hadn't experienced the Great Vowel Shift yet so i don't know what it said

my perfect crime? I memorize the entirety of the macy’s store inventory. I then go on aliexpress.com and find exact replicas of every single purse in the store. I break in at 3am, and replace every purse with a cheaper version of the purse. I take my real purses home and open up an online store on the darknet featuring fake purses. I then sell these real purses as fake purses, making it so that when the feds catch on to my antics, they spend countless years trying to figure out who can replicate purses this well, and who is selling them. Soon an entire division of the FBI is dedicated to finding me and figuring out how my “fake” purses appear to be real. 45 years later they finally trace my ip address and break into my villa in texas and shoot me right in the leg when i attempt to flee. While this would normally not be a fatal wound, due to my constant devotion to my online fake real purse storefront i have suffered an iron deficiency for 35 years. My blood can’t clot and I start to bleed out. Turns out the woman who shot me was a girl who i made out with once in college, and she holds my dying body in her arms and asks me how my fake purses were so real. I spend the last moments of my fleeting life telling her about how every five years i break into a different Macy’s and replace all the purses, and that the purses I have been selling online for a severely discounted price were actually all real, and I have been doing this purely for the gag of it all. When my former college girlfriend gets home from work after rightfully murdering me for my crimes, she goes into her walk in closet, looks at the 13 gucci purses she owns, and realizes that they’re all fakes.

gleep glorp motherfuckers

HELLOOOOOOOOO :D

hi :))))