Fickle and ferrety sniffingly the mousy girl whiffed a farty smelling scent in her Frigidaire. Scoping through lip smacky morsels and left over partials she eye gazed the culprit. A tenderly ten day aged piece of Saran wrapped porridge. Perplexed at the fact that mousy Monica has never pleasured her palette with porridge she frisbeed the saucer with an icky reflexed shaky arm. The quivers came on strong. These icky quivers roared into a frenzy with head a twisting and tongue ah gaggy. Epileptic and floor flopping Monica floundered free styling forward into the living room quarters. Coffee table top glass became shattered from the icked out mule footed freak out concerning the dilapidated platter. Now bloodied and sore from the glass shard shower she remembered where the poo porridge came from. Handy Man Dan is fond of bland and left his porridge in Frigidaire for fooding future feedings.
Dan brought a panned porridge parcel with him to joint compound repair the wet dampen dry wall. Wet walls make grody gypsum growths that can nauseate a neighbors home. Monica is mad, grossed out and dying. She should have never had let Dan dollop a compound made from a Farina dinner.
1 comment:
Glorious...
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