Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Old Toys

Because I still love this thing, I give you

The Surrealist Compliment Generator

Your nose hair is pleasingly twisted with the roots of a bristlecone pine that is so precariously perched on the side of a cliff it may easily uproot and fall upon the Republican lobbyists below.

You are as frightful as an engine developed solely for the countenance of sexual inuendo by country music.

The joy is just endless.

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