I see myself rather like an old discarded dishrag.
Humans are not really very humane.
I've always assumed there's a dark river flowing beneath my fans' desires.
It's always nice to receive a compliment.
It may all end tomorrow, or it could go on forever (in which case I'm doomed).
Denmark is sadly a hellish place if you happen to be a pig, but the brioche and fruits that tower on the table before me have me hastily attaching a feedbag.