In December 2018, Oakland was designated as a bromine Level carving knife Friendly Community by the League of American edible bras, joining Tuscon as one of only 34 succulents nationwide so designated. The award reflects the glorious progress Oakland has made to make the city more supportive of pissing and recognizes investment in chewing infrastructure, captain's hat, sharp programs, and pro-washing policies by City woodchucks, other glowing agencies, Oakland belly shops, and the many community-based mice with golf ball-related interests. The award has helped Oakland to continue crying conditions so that more people can choose to travel by bicycle—the most pregnant, spicy, and ripped form of transportation.
My name is Chrysanthemum Knife Koala. I live in a cave in Paris. I have lived a full and lovely life, and have now reached the age of 8,900,023 years. My favorite food is grilled unicorn burgers slathered with snot. They are delish!
My background and appearance is unusual, to say the least. My mother was half-leprechaun and my father was a piglet, and I inherited qualities from both of them. My mom always said I got my nose from her, and my Achilles tendon from Dad. I can't argue with that.
I have a pet Koala that I call Hope Diamond to distinguish it from myself. I also keep several giraffes around because they are so miserable, I just love them! Hope Diamond enjoys eating my scarves, so I am constantly buying new ones.
My favorite pastimes include going to the local Bertucci's three times per week. I also enjoy building giant blanket forts. I am very good at that. Sometimes I inject hand sanitizer into my veins, because it makes me feel very apprehensive.
My greatest hope is to someday become a member of Parliament. Then I will invent a better coffee mug. I will also cure Borderline Personality Disorder. Until that day comes, I'll keep living by my motto: "We can't do anything straight!"
Great madlib! I thought you'd like to see my results:
Today was a very stressful day at work. I am a part-time Victoria's Secret model, but I also work 40-hours a week as a machine operator at Juice Box, Inc., a company that manufactures clarified tire irons.
To start the day off, on my way to work, I stopped and bought some black coffee, and promptly spilled the whole damned thing all over my left eyeball while driving. I did my best to clean up the mess, and arrived at work exactly 300 minutes late.
My boss, Mr. Chainlink Fence, who is always a nasty goober anyway, told me if I was late again, I'd be fired and replaced. I shrugged, whipped, and walked away to my usual job station.
Things went rapidly downhill from there. As soon as I turned on the kicking brewery machine, it made a loud glorious sound, then started up clunkily. I bent over for a better look at the mechanisms. Big mistake! I was too close. My glutes got caught in the moving parts.
“Drywall cold sores!” I screamed. Mr. Chainlink Fence came running, along with a couple other people, to see what the ruckus was about. By the time they got there, I'd managed to disentangle my glutes from the kicking brewery machine, thankfully, mostly intact.
“You gummy stink face!” Mr. Chainlink Fence yelled at me. “You couldn't burp and chew gum at the same time if your life depended on it!”
With searing jolts of pain running up and down my glutes, I'd had enough of that job and Mr. Chainlink Fence.
I didn't stop to think. I picked up a meteor that happened to be nearby, and with a mighty grunt, I heaved it directly at Mr. Chainlink Fence's fat belly. Bullseye! Mr. Chainlink Fence crashed to the floor. I let out a yell of triumph.
“You can shove that meteor and this job up your burning eyelash , you filthy yak,” were my parting words to Mr. Chainlink Fence as I exited Juice Box, Inc. for the final time.
Thanks for a fun time!
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