I think the best model I can conceive of right now for the workings of my stomach is one of those blower bins full of ping-pong balls that they use on TV to draw the winning lotto numbers.
This metaphor may seem funnier to me than it actually is because I took some Dramamine tonight and it’s making me WAY loopier than it probably should.
Oh man, you know what I really like? Toast. TOO BAD THERE’S NOT A DAIRY QUEEN BY THIS HOTEL
RIGHT
HANNAH
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