|
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Someday a hairy little omnivore will use my discarded mortal coil in some disturbingly frivolous way like blowing leaves around. How depressing. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Stop whining already! We rule now. They rule then. Get over it! | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| ... ...... ...... I'm... ... I'm going to eat you now. | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Talk to the horns thalidomide boy. | |
| | |
|
|
|
