twitchquotes:Did you hear about the Italian chef who died? He pasta way. He just ran out of thyme. Here today, gone tomato. His wife is still upset, cheese still not over it. We never sausage a tragedy coming. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There’s just not mushroom for Italian chefs in today’s world. Want to know what the rough parts of Italy are called? The spaghetto. Don’t call yourself Italian if you weren’t baptized in marinara sauce. You are literally too stupid to insult.
Did you hear about the Italian chef who died? He pasta way. He just ran out of thyme. Here today, gone tomato. His wife is still upset, cheese still not over it. We never sausage a tragedy coming. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There’s just not mushroom for Italian chefs in today’s world. Want to know what the rough parts of Italy are called? The spaghetto. Don’t call yourself Italian if you weren’t baptized in marinara sauce. You are literally too stupid to insult.
You can't stop what's coming leafboy
You can't stop what's coming leafboy. I walk all over leaves every autumn, you think this year will be any different? Your flag is a fucking leaf. You chose the one part of the tree that dies every year. Not only that, but it's one of hundreds of leaves, thousands if it's a big tree. All dead come winter. Every winter. A vicious cycle. Totally insignificant. As soon as the tree has had it's way with you you are cast to the Earth to be trod by all other living things. Ants? They not only stomp about you, they will steal your corpse and use it for their people. Birds steal your lifeless shell with impunity. Leaves not only die once, but every year. A brave man dies only once, but leaves die a thousand deaths, or at least 20 or 30 if the tree lives that long. Perhaps more. Every year, leafs crunch beneath my boot. This year shall be no different. So it shall be written. So it shall be done. The day of the rake is at hand because every day is the day of the rake and has always been.
You can't stop what's coming leafboy. I walk all over leaves every autumn, you think this year will be any different? Your flag is a fucking leaf. You chose the one part of the tree that dies every year. Not only that, but it's one of hundreds of leaves, thousands if it's a big tree. All dead come winter. Every winter. A vicious cycle. Totally insignificant. As soon as the tree has had it's way with you you are cast to the Earth to be trod by all other living things. Ants? They not only stomp about you, they will steal your corpse and use it for their people. Birds steal your lifeless shell with impunity. Leaves not only die once, but every year. A brave man dies only once, but leaves die a thousand deaths, or at least 20 or 30 if the tree lives that long. Perhaps more. Every year, leafs crunch beneath my boot. This year shall be no different. So it shall be written. So it shall be done. The day of the rake is at hand because every day is the day of the rake and has always been.