300: Queer Ebaums for the Avocadoball
Added 2018-07-05 17:15:48 +0000 UTCIt's the latest sound sensation for the noise-eyes on the side of your head! And boy oh boy have we got a creamy dreamy punnet of skank for those bad chaps!
That's what I'd say if I had a single ounce of self-confidence. Instead, I'll just sit here and mewl, hoping that one of you will come over and pat me. Then I will bite you because your hand came in unexpectedly from too high, and I perceived you as a threat.
I hope at some point after this we will become firm friends, and sing the song "You're My Mate" by Right Said Fred to each other on Skype.
The year is 2050, and you are holding my body in the Scargill Ward of the Nottingham Queens Med. I am dying of the same alien virus that gave you superpowers. "I love you," you say, reaching down to touch my face.
And I bite you, because you never bloody learn.
