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Post by Violinist on May 25, 2008 16:15:51 GMT -5
Nachos
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Post by Heroic Bilby on May 25, 2008 16:23:46 GMT -5
The men made of peanut brittle under my fingernails are not amused!
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Post by Violinist on May 25, 2008 16:27:35 GMT -5
Let them come! My pact with the denture koala will protect my cheese!
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Post by Heroic Bilby on May 25, 2008 16:51:41 GMT -5
Aha! The toilet sparrows sing! They tell me your refrigerator is running.
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Post by Violinist on May 25, 2008 17:08:13 GMT -5
Indeed. It won the gold three years in a row! Better than your toaster, that ball of yarn couldn't crawl over a skyscraper.
BLOCKSOFGIANTCHEESE!
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Post by Heroic Bilby on May 25, 2008 17:25:35 GMT -5
Jubilation! The house made of waffles is complete.
All except for the tomato syrup to carpet its ceilings.
Why must the groundhogs hate me for my sugar?
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Post by Violinist on May 25, 2008 17:40:42 GMT -5
Jubilation! The tomato contractor has sold me a garage made of chocolate. He was out of baby souls.
Potato Chocolate?
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Post by Heroic Bilby on May 25, 2008 17:54:17 GMT -5
Nay. The squirrels from the nest in my hat tell me that what you speak of is theater popcorn. Popcorn that bleeds its fruitful nacho cheese into the hearts of the worms.
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