I talked to the flowers, they wilted and died, I talked to the butterflies. They shivered and curled up and fell to the ground, I looked to the heavens and cried: 'Lord, is this Death from within me? A cancer growing inside?' The sky turned black, the cold wind sighed. 'It comes from your heart,' came the booming reply, 'Now fuck off, your breath stinks.'
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alecweston
Pro - Friday, Mar. 21, 2008 @ 14:46:37
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mistertramp
- Sunday, Mar. 23, 2008 @ 23:56:36
No, sadly not, as I have not yet mastered the necessary scientific techniques.
I do however offer you a warm, friendly, nay almost brotherly hug, mano-a-mano, in the hope it may assist. -
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Your breath stinks, so you have the destructive power of God.
I like it.
Can I buy the smell as a spray-on?