WORDS FAIL ME

Yo, Whatsyername! That bloopmobile is in a no-bloop zone.

Or rather, it is not ours to bloop. I know it’s schmoogly, so hard not to floop, so fribable. But we can’t be breebling when the owners say it’s a no-drimping situation. No, I don’t KNOW why they’re schmooping it right out front of the doodlebop if they don’t want people to flerp it, but here we are. Whad I say? Right. NO FLERP. Rules is rules. I’m not the king.

What? Sure, yes, yr daddy’s the king. Go crimble him. K, I gotta grooble. Hang in there and eat a plorping chortlebread, man, you’re hangry af, my love. If we can’t get you back from bizonkers we’re all gonna have to grimp on out, like, forty hours early, and I hain’t yet even brimped the first set.

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TBH I didn’t really trimpt how tf I was gonna play my tillybob for three full band sets while my troopmimble bobbled the borps, who were really going down the prodder,