I was exploring Europe, from the back of a rocket. Not the best way to travel, but let me tell you, was it ever fast! Too bad the rocket was blue though, they seemed to think I was American.
I don't remember when the first bullet hit me, but I do remember the blood. BY the time they were done, well, actually, they still aren't done.
I think though, that if they are ever done, they'll probably be finished. I hope so, I don't know where all this blood is coming from. Not me, for sure.
I'm beginning to think it might have something to do with that time when I was giving blood and left early.
I should have made them remove the big claw-device that it cutting into my neck. YEs. I suppose so. But I'm on the back of a rocket, what do I know? I wasn't going to just say "Look, I'm on the back of a rocket, please take this thing off my neck". Well, maybe I should have said that. But it's too late. I'm in Europe now, and I'm all grown up.
Besides, over the years, you get used to bleeding. It's not the kind of thing you can just quit cold turkey. I'm thinking of toning it down a bit by the year 2000. Hey, look, it's an Iguana. Nice. Someday, if I can ever keep my bleeding down, maybe I'll get an iguana.
NOT HIM THOUGH. Fucker... kick, kick. Got 'im! That's my accent, I had to be part British cause I was drafted! Drafted into Britishness... who would've thought they'd sink so low? Churchill never made any speeches about that, the bast... probably gave them (the iguanas) at least half of what they gotl. The gills, maybe those except "medical" supplies... I've heard the laughter, "Mister Prime Minister", no need for the spicy outfits no mo'.
Things are changing though. The weather is getting nicer. That's what I like. Nice weather. I won't mind things as much when the weather is nice. No sir, not at all. You could walk up to me, grab my arm, wrench it off, take it golfing, come back with it a year later (having painted it all funny) and give it back to me. I won't mind a bit. Wait, ah h h
Say, that iguana, the aforementioned one, is back, only know, he seems to be placing soem sort of cream in my mouth. What's that it says on the bottle? I can't quite make it out... strain though I might... all part of being a carcass I guess, ... "WAIT!"... 'Hairpin Tar?' I'm going to be a hairpin on the road killing innocent Brits? I think not, Mister Iguana Man.... Now you've messed with the wrong spay of Lorth..... As those badger wallets so crooned each might as they wrapped me up in their spines... cosy spines though, NOT LIKE YOU.
I wouldn't say you're not a cosy spine, but you're certainly not cosy. Not like my basket. My great flowing basket. Mister. Mister basket. He knows what I like. Iguanas, spines, and more, if you act now. BASKET come to meee I'm not like that at all, sometimes, if you're careful, I'll come up to you and give you some meat
Meat of the palisades, croaked the spittle, it's voice emanating from the seemingly robust jet engines? I don't know, El Lizardo, croaked the other spittle, still forgotten after all those flags. I have 8! Godo 8. Goddddo, HUIT. Franko? Prusso. Slammo da jammo, and bada-hold the hammoelo. Those were the tongues. No need now Of course. Into the engine, with you, wench. Wait, that was my body, eek. So much for it, guess I'll float along behind a certain ig'whana. Y'eo'no'noe.
My pa said once that if'in you've got a tractor, you don't need no frothy shaky iguanas. I didn't think that was nice of him, so that's why I pulled the sea up over you. Ha ha. I like you, not much though. I like to think things about pieces of metal when people aren't watching, and when they are watching, I think things about pieces of wood. So they don't get no funny ideas, children or any other non-living miscellaneous device that could turn the tide into their favour. Because, as well all now, I'm cardboard, and good at it.
Once, . the crow.. set the table... spaw. Gasp.
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