I am not quadbike Judy. I have no interest in your holiday slides. I have been, and always shall be, your sultana
This seems like a nice segway into my topic of the day, namely, the many geological eras of planet sledgehamers
I was walking through a cave in bavaria last night, when I y complete 100% chance fell over and my face landed on a cave painting. This is a thing where dead people from mammoth times would go for a quiet lie down after a strenuous rope climbing sessiopn. They wouldn then wake up, slap their belly with s boulder and sketch some of their brain images onto the wall of the cave/rocky. Well, anyway, I digest, the cave paint I fell onto last ngiht has been taken a picture of by myself, which I shall share with you all here:
It's fascinating isnt it. It's almost like those dead cave kids are trying to communicate with me specifically. Perhaps they are? In my imagination I hear them calling out to me, "Romaine! Romaine! Where are you, we havent paid for the eggs yet" and in my minds eye I imagine myself ripping my clothes off, rubbing my chest with a clock that fell off my wall, and I talk back to them "dead guys! dead guys! I am here, and I love you all. I shall join you soon, but first I have to compete 90% of my life in order for my dad to un-ground me and give me some pudding"
Anyway, that was some deep thinking. I do that sometimes. Sometimes I just go off on a tangent and think about things that haven't happened to me. I dropped my Nintendo Switch in the bath and the electrical charge singed my hip muscles I have to go to the doctors immediate
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