asta la vista baby

Sometimes things are just way too stale
For their own good
“There’s stale in your hair,” cried the boy with the pointy haircut.
“There’s stale in your hair,” cried the girl with the purple button.
“There’s stale in my arm,” shrieked the unholy prisoner.
“There’s stale painted in warm blood on my bathroom wall,” mumbled the nurse.
“Stale is crawling beneath the lining of my bedroom carpet,” sneezed Jeremy.
Anita agreed, saying that she wished her earlobe just wasn’t so stale.

“Here, have a try then,” chuckled the joyously wrinkly retiree to a lemon-coloured child.
I have to admit that I can feel my swollen vessels pulsing with the surprisingly silly realisation that this may be viewed as absurd by most members of the community, including myself. But sometimes the scroll just has to be untied and rolled out flat on some concrete.
“Sell your trumpet before it is of no proper use to you,” Uncle Kevin quietly mimicked, and I humbly nodded.
After some time, the giant ant wiggled his legs all across the sparse, slightly prickly terrain of my kneecap. He was mighty giant. I felt as if he would crush me. Any minute now one of his legs pressing on my skin would be far too much for me to handle and I would collapse. But muesli is so good. Never.
“What is this life doing to you?”
Do you know how many shimmering emerald handbags you have glowed in the presence of? Jane wonders what it would take to dive in amongst the contents.
“There’s lipstick on your eyelid,” cried Aristopher.
Crash into your sandcastle, only after the sunset. It will cost you nineteen dollars to pat my hair.
"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur, l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux."
Someone is waiting over there carrying a stained envelope and the controller says that you're sticky. What was he looking at when thunder sounded beneath the willow trees? Won can only one der.