”O freddled gruntbuggly thy micturations are to me As plured gabbleblochits on a lurgid bee. Groop, I implore thee my foonting turlingdromes. And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles, Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurlecruncheon, see if I don’t.”
HAPPY BAD POETRY DAY! 👽