Boogers! Muah ha ha, boogers, I shall remove you from my nose posthaste with the trident of Poseidon who, by the way, is a close family friend because my mother fucked many fish.
Diabetes in a can all the way down to the tannery where my cloak of invisibility is produced thanks to the hide of a cow that cannot be seen by the eyes of mere mortal men.
Twizzlers! I say twizzlers and garbanzo beans in my potato’s au gratin.
Dan Quayle is the stylish master pimp of the universe and all the elites in the underground cave of boozle bozzle know this.
Earthquake! Everybody duck! Donald, to be exact.
Farts! Glorious farts!
Never lick a toilet seat without asking.
Gnomes are a-holes! A-holes, I say.
Beware the global conspiracy against toothpaste!
Tapioca pudding in my brain!