Dear Boxhead
My skin smells like death. What is there to do about it? Also wherever I look I see walking skeletons.
From,
Concerned.
To Concerned,
As I am stuck in the box I can't smell. And seeing is rather difficult too. So stop complaining you whinging arsehole.
Love,
Boxhead.
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Comments (2)
Con Fusion
said:
 |
There is no skin. There is no smell. There is no death. And, Mr Dan, there is no truth, no Dan, no Dandenong. And there is no Con Fusion. And there is no Password. |
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