So I finely made the time to read this melange of bitter wit, innuendo, truth and corn.
Bless you Noddy. Bless you and your spawn unto the seventh generation. May pacific beatitude be your lot and all you ever want in
your short life, in that charmed sewer of yours. May the true light erase every last paining mote of your sainted ass, that none may ever know of your sorrows, or your time among us or of your
timely passing, for surely the likes of you and the likes of us should never have knowledge of the other - the one being too lowly and unworthy even to breathe the same air or hear the name of NoID10ts... the other... well....
Can't stop clicking
blessed kittens! Die! Die!
ps. do those shirts come in 'weedy Irishman' size? I need a prezzie for Melkor.