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The snug black wool cap sat arrogantly upon the peasants brow. From neath his cap, his eyes surveyed the impending doom with the non-chalance that comes with wisdom. For today the British came to take his bonney land away from him. Well they could take his land, but they would never take his cap.
"Boys we need a quest. I'm bored of sitting around all day, having my every whim pampered to by beautiful women. I want to go down in history as a Knight of the Ages, plus I have all this nice shiny armour that I never use."
The twisted old hands gripped the lid of the jar, struggling to loosen the lid."Damn you hands, why did you have to get old?" He promptly lifted the jar above his head and smashed it against the table, grinning contentedly."Problem solved"
The infamous bug from the far reaches of the Amazon basin, reknowned for its ability to play chopsticks with its incisors in a klinking refrain.
Hey American woman, are you gonna go my way?
That Lenny Kravitz is so hot, I could use him as an extra pair of underwear. You know what I'm saying!
I doubt Lenny Kravitz ever wears thermal underwear.
That feeling you get when you get your head stuck in the plastic packaging of a packet of cereal. Hey it can happen!
Don't dispute this Karma.
The coffee that makes you a running man.
What Kermit the Frog gets for running the Muppet Show.
Khained to the wheel.
