Uhhhh

The slog hates you

F you, comma, the slog

 

There are things – things! – of substance that I’d actually like to talk about for a change, but I’m feeling too lazy and brainjumbled to form anything coherent and worthwhile at the moment.

Uhhhhh…yep.

Floobing thinky-deal.  Work better, how ’bouts.

 

Bene scribete.

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I Hate You, The Slog

The slog hates you

I hate you, the slog.

 

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

I hate you, the slog.

 

You are not very nice
and now I’ve said it twenty-twice.

 

Bene scribete.