| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Electrocution.
Zap//
Kazot!
Buzz/crackle.
I have never heard such shocking language.
I can't understand anything of what you're saying !
Nonetheless, proud of my unflinching ignorance of your heathen ways and puffed by my gnomish Flanaess heritage (the one and only - Curse you, Gnarl Rounderbottoms !), I hereby proclaim my esteemed mauve pantaloons self the WINNER of this thread.
It's about time that your mauve pantaloons got steamed
More loon than panta, I’d say.
Loons. You hear the call of the loons.
Trombloons, that is.
Howza bout some doubloons?
Arrh, now ye're talkin' me language, shipmate. Have 'ee come for a consultation?
It’s my damage reduction. You can’t have it.
Arrrgh!
It’s my damage reduction. You can’t have it.
Arrrgh!
Yarr, well, you can't have no more, neither. Only so much bulletproof salt pork can be nailed to a man before the side effects outweigh the benefits.
And, Bumptious Wazzock, my prescription be to stop, or start, putting sulphur in yer porridge. That'll be eight pieces of five, prithee.
Arrgh matey, inflation!
Aharh, and they have Pingu's face on 'em, too, so they must be genuine.
And a donkey on the other…
You won’t find more genuine doubloons this side of the hemisphere!
Spherical ham. What will they think of next?
Cubicle taters.
Mmm. I think we may be on the way to a delicious breakfast.
The ensemble only lacks a pyramid of BEANS to achieve perfection.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
All right, then for you. Trapezoidal Rutabagas.
The future is now!
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Not when, now!
Silver moonbeams. You should be happy.
The future was yesterday. You missed it.
A Valentines present, no doubt.
You're sure you're not a 'Live in The Where, and When' kind of guy?
I feel that you’re mostly a “What’s for lunch” kind of guy.
And the answer might just be: Fish-Malkovich.
I know what's for lunch. Particles filtered from the air with my fibrous tendrils, same as always.