I feel creative. I am writing a song.
If I were a banana, and you were a carpenter, I’d hammer you in the morning, and let my peel fall off.
Ok. Another try:
If I were a sculptor, but then again… no. I’d sit on the roof and smoke a joint.
Here we go:
On the road again, can’t wait to get on the road again. On the road forever. Damn reindeer.
Let’s get serious.
I’m caught in a trap. I can’t get out. Because the mouse was here first, baby.
All right. I have it:
Oh oh here she comes, watch out boys she’ll chew you up. Oh oh here she comes, she’s dieting, hungry and drunk as a skunk.
A better choice?
If I leave here tomorrow, will you still unfriend me?
On a more mature note:
Come on baby light my fire. Girl we couldn’t get much higher. Try me, you idiot.
I love the oldies. They were so sweet:
Little old lady got mutilated last night. Bananawolf of London again. Ahoooooooooooooo.
Jingle balls, jingle balls, jingle all the way. Hey, you goof! Your fly is open.