...ancient astronaughts live in my underwear and control the hip-hop recording industry's yogurt cartels with Z-waves. They want to open up the portal to Canada, so they can bring enough robot demons through to man Clint Eastwood's secret skull-bunker in Albany. Garbeldy fibble farb. I'm not crazy, damn you! FUCKERS!!
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I was gonna send a robot back in time, but I got high.