by Radiant_Maelstrom » Mon Apr 04, 2016 5:43 am
Ye think ye can speak like a pirate, ye landlubber? Ye gunna sleeping with the fishes. I shall gut ye like a flounder afore ye utter a spell.
I feel so dirty now
He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly.