Mar 9, 2016
Find me a Carrot and I will stop squirming. My ripe and yearning arm is long and squiggly. When will my vegetable needs be met? My orange color is fading and I am becoming the putrid yellow that only feeble lemon-eaters display. Hard, ribbed, and with a bountiful mane of green foliage, I need you to fling yourself forth, through the harrowing world that I trust you despise and find me in my dire need. I have clipped my eye tendrils for this splendid search for you, so that the portals to my soul might be ever more aware of your presence. My only thoughts are of your squig squag roots and of the taste of your body. I am but a moral sil sal. Plz Halp.