He looks like he lives in a coo coo clock.
The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.
He looks like he lives in a coo coo clock.
It certainly helps.
He was also a philanthropist and donated a ton of money to stop cat juggling in South America.
Need more information. I’m ready for a new genre of music to jam to.
I need the beans. When I found out about the beans here I found out I wasn’t alone. But there is room for Beef Stroganoff.
Like what if I was caught in an elevator with Mr Bean and the Devil. And he was going to kill us if one of us didn’t tork his meat? I’d say “Mr Bean, Stroke’em’off.”
I’ll see my way out.
It’s currently doing some Flight of The Navigator stuff with some kid in Noth Carolina.
I think they will know because of the echo in my bathroom.
Thanks.
Eleven through nineteen do not follow the same naming convention that the twentys, thirtys, forties and so on do. For example, fifty one, fifty two… Instead of eleven it should be tenty one. The pattern should match.
I only speak English but I have always thought we should pronounce 11 through 19 as tendy one, tendy two, tendy three, tendy four… tendy nine, twenty.
Humans weren’t brushing them so this model 101 just took them. Looks great and he is clearly taking care of them.
40 and still not anywhere close.
My brother in-law and I have this long standing joke where we order beans at restaurants. The fancier the better. “I’ll have an order of your beans.” I don’t know why its so damn funny. It’s just freaking beans. BEANz. Give’em.
Interesting. So, what bugs have you eaten?
The D