The sisters of St. Cathode ask that you cover yourself with filaments and take pains to make yourself fully incandescent this evening.
As the bile slowly rises in my incandescent eluxulator, your mere presence has a calming effect upon my rabies.
Your dashingly colored toupee twists my right boot into a state of ennui with the speed and dexterity of many lemon meringue-coated conquistadors.
Tribes of primitive hunters, with rhinestone codpieces rampant, should build pyramids of Chevy engines covered in butterscotch syrup to exalt the diastolic, ineffable, scintillated and cacophonous salamander of truth which slimes and distracts from each and every orifice of your holy refrigerator, Sears be its brand.
The above "compliments" and more, even stranger, ones can be found here at the Surrealist Compliment Generator. So if any of y'all has a hankerin' to insult someone in a way that will leave them shakin' their head going "HUH?", just pop on over there and keep clickin' on the "Reload" button 'til you find one that tickles your funny bone.
I'm just about ready to crawl out of this deep, dark hole I've been hidin' in for the last few weeks and get back to regular posting, so please try to bear with me a little longer. Thanks.
1 comment:
No! I don' wanna come up! I don' WANNA come up! Don't make me--puhleeeeeeeeeeeez!
I think I'll stay in my hole a little longer, if you don't mind.
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