For most men, time moves slowly, oh so slowly, they don't even realize it. But time has revealed itself to me in a very special way. Time is a rushing, howling wind that rages past me, withering me in a single, relentless blast, and then continues on. I've been sitting here passively, submissive to its rage, watching its work. Listen! Time, howling, withering!
BarnabasI have already prepared my counter proposal. It reads thusly: you may strategically place your wonderful lips upon my posterior and kiss it repeatedly!
BarnabasLove means never having to say you're sorry. However, it is with sincere regret that I must now kill all of you.
Barnabas