Moscow
Pope-purri
Lebriechauns
En-Queso-lated
Occu-pied.
A chocolate baaaaa.
Confused.
An autumnobile!
A Raguun!
Jurassic pork!
Vladimir Poutine
Hailey
Cashews!
Maybe, but you have to be careful. If you're caught trying to gather crows to train, you could be charged with attempted murder.
Edit: A group of crows is called a murder
But I will recover
Because D shells were too big
But that’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.
Ground beef. What’s a cow with 3 legs? Lean beef. Now, what’s a cow with 2 legs? >!Your Mom!<
Naval Bridge.
A multiple choice question asked me which ruler covered the most during their reign.
It was a really tough call. I picked Olaf the Above.
Blanket statements
So no one can judge us by our covers.
Mask exodus
It would be sick.
Hot saws.
Hollow Notes
It was rubbish - didn't contain a single wrap song.
A small price toupee.
Locomotive
His best friend, Roy, was known around town for having an adventurous streak that a small town just couldn't satisfy. Roy yearned to travel the world, to rub shoulders with the well-to-do, and to squeeze every drop of excitement he could out of life. While most young folk in town, my grandpa included, were resigned to their lot, Roy was driven by his dream. He worked incredibly hard, taking every hired-hand and handy-man job he could find. He would walk five miles each way to clean a gutter if there was a nickel to be made. His hometown was always spotless, because Roy would pick up every glass bottle he saw to get the deposit back, and every can he found would get turned in for recycling.
The years stretched on. Grandpa settled down with his high school sweetheart in a one-room cottage and had my dad, and not much else. Roy kept hurrying from one job to the next, never spending a dime on a date. Everyone would just roll their eyes and quietly gossip about how poor Roy's obsession was robbing him of a real life.
One day, Roy showed up at Grandpa's house, all decked out in a brand new khaki safari kit, complete with helmet, binoculars, and elephant gun, and announced that he had finally saved up enough for passage to Africa to go big game hunting. He was especially proud of the fine leather boots he was sporting. "Indestructable" he called them, totally impenetrable to water, wind, and snow. No trench-foot for him while he tracked rhinos on the savannah!
Grandpa congratulated Roy on his achievement and wished him bon voyage. Over the next three months, the town felt Roy's absence. Litter lay where it fell, gutters overflowed in heavy rain, small-time farmers rose that bit earlier and bedded that bit later to cover the work Roy used to help with. Of course, the gossipers just turned their chat from how Roy needed a dose of reality to how thoughtless it was of him to just up and leave. Most folks were convinced Roy was gone for good. After all, how could he come back from such a high-falutin' adventure to his tiny, no-account hometown?
But return Roy did, and everyone crowded around at the bar to hear his account of his safari. To their surprise, Roy told them that, for all the time he had been away, he only bagged one trophy that was currently on a slow boat back. It turned out, once Roy got a close-up look at the elephants, rhinos, giraffes, gazelles, and all the fine animals of the African savannah, he lost all heart for hunting. He just couldn't imagi
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A book mark
We're a cover band
Quasi-Osbourne!
It's big red flag
I should start a cover band called the blankets.
An Autumnobile
