Boulders Could

Hello! Hello! I said hello twice because I've said hello once to start out a post before. I just wanted to mix things up. You know how it is. Gravel. Even so, I wouldn't know to go for the NOSE. The end. That's all I had to say about that thing. I have no idea. I don't even think nose rhymes with so and go. The last part at least. WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST PART, you may be asking. And I will never answer your question. Mostly because you are probably not real, but secondly because why the heck would I answer your question? I don't know you. You could be evil. I don't like being around evil people. They're evil.

Anyway, how are you? I don't care, but the laws of social interaction dictate that I must ask you. This isn't even social interaction come to think about it. You know what, you suck. There. Take that government. I have many ideas of ways to build benches. Saying politically correct things makes you a real dumb face. No one likes a dumb face. If you're a dumb face and you're reading this, you're a dumb face. Take that, dumb face. Even if your face is really smart, you're a dumb face.

So I entitled this post Boulders Could. I would like to talk about how magazines will forever be known as the things no one reads anymore. Reading a magazine is about as efficient as sticking your hands into a lit flame. You'll just get nothing done. For weeks after even. You normally don't recover from third degree burns before the first twenty minutes anyway. I really enjoy buying cakes inside of Coca-Cola onions. The end.

-Griffin