The drogoo clorby power structure's imperialist initiative has wrought havoc upon the world for long enough. Jom jom, zeeby waah giggly clomp, and people of frollabonga-bonga-chime are mere pawns in a doooby obba bunk chunk game. While the status quo sits back like passive, apathetic sheep, our world is being torn apart by the dabbalabbb gweeeeeeeeeeeee for the profit and exploitation of those who believe yimbagoobby fum-tum is superior to all other shalabaloobeehoo hoo. After centuries of jonagluflokkee shabatang aaaaamaaaaamaaa, it's time for us to rise up and defeat the oppressive forces that have long chained the srebballlaglaa shipilly konka booo toubby womp that we all have inside of our souls.
Schplonk tonk bonky crooboo tail chowwd. More than anything else that's why we need, and I mean need, to destroy the hoobulloo donky poke sour patch underground, the secret society that runs the eintre world, if not the universe. Just look outside, anywhere you go, and you'll see it! Constant reminders of the forbogg hemillpopp yonk a wonk. A never ending parade of tri-blow ghost flecks spattering across chivalry's boo-ba-zoog shaow boww.The Holy lovers' chalice trogallo is an absurd imitation of anything even vaguely related to dhalaagahaggalla which, consequently, makes it tragic and sad and destructive.
How much longer? How much longer!? How much longer must it go on before society wakes up and smells the shim shimm coock 'a boo it's shovelin!?! Chapoglibous proawl-o-bonk's xillbaqanck robbed of them, without a second look from the orbrarr grah ba suubeez; innocent wap flonks spaowbowwed with chaceebee crub'ell; hornoga forced to insta-runk against their hoobahgooja chomp bompa lawp schtorgee... in other words, the list of "Mr. Dorky Guy" consequences is just endless.
Deep beneath a star's crust their lies a body. Coarsing through the veins of this body there is a traffic jam. Inside of a wagon there, hidden from the leverage flunkies, sandwiches begin to reproduce at an alarming rate. Within the frenzy of reproduction, there is an eternal invisibility—this is the definition of a baby.
An entire cluster of galaxies just revels in the untouchable pleasure. Or, to translate it for all the gosh darn philistiney-wine-ees out there, oowbuggabuggabuggabugga, ugga buggabuggabuggabugga buggleegoo goo goo hoo wajj zaow clamatump achunkunupp doff tronk zal hordordakka.
In conclusion, we only have one vurld, and, by the grace of scrod, we get to be, not just good citizens, but great citizens. Don't use that privilege. Don't abuse that privilege. Realize that such a privilege is the ultimate way to make a difference in the world.
You must also realize that "difference" has a nickname…
and that nickname is....
Trud Gill: a Satanic robo-butler;
Trud Gill: Christmas with rubber lemmings;
Trud Gill: the bogus disability claim made on behalf of a telekinetic bee.
Please, we're on our hands and knees bachankinly strahkorping for your mercy, please cherish the Trud Gill and transform into something that no one will ever find in Lil’ J.J.’s teal grove.