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Light as a breeze, soft as Dave Strider



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When no one was looking, Victoria stole forty cakes. She stole 40 cakes. That's as much as 4 tens and that's terrible.
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The grass is in love with the sky. And it pines as the days pass it by. It grows to get closer But the mower says, “No, sir.” And the grass stays a million miles shy.

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My name is Dickto-- ahh that's not the first time I've done that... My name is Victoria and I'm partially a weeaboo, and I have a lot of other great qualities as well. And I like myself a lot.

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OH MY THROBBING PHLEGM LOBE, WHO GIVES A BARFING FUCK ABOUT THAT.

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