A stunted, scraggly tree sat amongst a few crumpled beer cans and soggy fast food wrappers in a small patch of greying and equally scraggly grass by the side of a highway somewhere in New England.
First, think of the coler of the clowds. Necst, think of the coler of sno. Now, think of the coler of a bright full moon. Now anser kwikly wut do cows drink?
A while ago, a month I think, my car broke down. I was on a freeway, and I was just barely able to pull onto the side. I got out, and waited for a car to stop.
Everyone needs a joke. Like I mean it. You couldn't live without that little laugh. That one thing that keeps you going. Especially right now. Like, Why do we tell actors to break a leg? Guess!