Moi?
Dead for years?! Oof. I feared as much. I suppose this explains those alarming late-night phone calls from Paul McCartney. "I'm dead! I'm dead!" he shrieks. Damnit, shut up, Paul. I just hate your dead ass.
This may also explain why God keeps exhorting me to "stop blabbing everydamnthing" to Sylvia Browne.
This may also explain why God keeps exhorting me to "stop blabbing everydamnthing" to Sylvia Browne.
1 Comments:
There is a necrophilia joke in there somewhere. I just can't seem to get a good angle on it.
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