I am setting out on something the whither of which I have never set out upon before. It is a particular moody something, with moods, and somethings. And shalt, if successful, be the first enterprise of its kind the whither of which I have ever set out upon. And if unsuccessful shalt be acredited to Ted. Ted is a dunce. I have just made him up. He has no girl, and does not want one.
That which I am doing requires talents which I don't know if I have them. If I do, I shall utilize them. When I utilize these talents, I hope to accomplish something the whither of which is impressive; that is to say, compels impression. More impressive than that which Ted sets out to do. Ted seeks lunch meats. When I seek lunch meats, they are not spam.
Spam is useful for feeding the troops. Who march on each other's stomachs. That's why many of our troops are so good at digging foxholes.
So wish me luck. When I have finished what I set out to do, I will be done with it, and you all may find fortunes in oreos.
And this all makes sense to you. *Jedi hand wavey thing.*
4 comments:
These aren't the droids I'm looking for...
Wait a minute, I wasn't looking for any damn droids, what the hell are you up to, there Whitty?
Boba Fet! Boba Fet! (furious waving of warning towards the behind you places)
Just don't kill anyone, Whit.
Right...um...like...how do you mean "kill"? I think I...have a Haitian I need to visit.
Post a Comment