I used to have that exact same picture hanging on my wall as a small child. Only it was poster-sized. I would stare up at it well into the wee hours of the morning. "Oh, Sir Michael IX, how are you so wise?" That's what I'd say. And I'd look at the scale in his hands and wish I could use it to compare the weight of my Hot Wheels car to that of the four old grapes I'd found. Then I'd go to the bathroom and throw up. Thanks for the memories, Sir Michael IX. And thank YOU, B-Monkey.
And I wasn't implying that I ate the grapes. Nope, 'cause they were the red kind, which is the gross kind. I instead threw up only because I had heard tale of others doing so.
I believe now all that is left to do is lobby for the Roman Catholic church to canonize Michael IX, then he can become the patron saint of pointless causes.
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I used to have that exact same picture hanging on my wall as a small child. Only it was poster-sized. I would stare up at it well into the wee hours of the morning. "Oh, Sir Michael IX, how are you so wise?" That's what I'd say. And I'd look at the scale in his hands and wish I could use it to compare the weight of my Hot Wheels car to that of the four old grapes I'd found. Then I'd go to the bathroom and throw up. Thanks for the memories, Sir Michael IX. And thank YOU, B-Monkey.
And I wasn't implying that I ate the grapes. Nope, 'cause they were the red kind, which is the gross kind. I instead threw up only because I had heard tale of others doing so.
I believe now all that is left to do is lobby for the Roman Catholic church to canonize Michael IX, then he can become the patron saint of pointless causes.
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