The Story: Don't eat the fruit in the garden, Eden,, It wasn't in God's natural plan., You were only a rib,, And look at what you did,, To Adam, the father of Man.
The Story: You smell like goat, I'll see you in hell
The Story: All the b***h had said, all been washed in black
My husband and I were discussing earworms--those annoying
songs that go round and round in your head and won't go away. He
said his most recent affliction was Do Re Mi, and proceeded to sing
it. When he came to "Ti, a drink with gin and bread," I fell on the
floor laughing at the thought of angelic Julie Andrews singing about
gin to all those children. His reaction? "I always wondered why
someone would have bread with gin."
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