When things happen, they sometimes leave a smear on the windshield of the car of life. I'm here to help investigate what that smear is, and if possible, to take a sample to catalog it for future study. Until we get the results from this analysis, we'll need to postpone final judgment.
Caeser: The burdens of ruling on high on Olympus run such a blade of apathy in a man's heart... Sub-praetor: O Caesar...don't sweat it...you are the man! Caesar: My subjects number in the millions, offer their tribute, and yet, I find them to be nothing more than a band of degenerate, slack-jawed yokels lusting for decrepit entertainment Sub-praetor: O Caesar...shall you offer them games and scantily clad maidens and man-brads with which to give their base yearning means to succor? Caesar: Make it so...and be certain to retain the finest maiden and score of man-brads for myself...it grows so weary on Olympus...
Post a Comment
No comments:
Post a Comment