This is what we currently have...
I don't know why plums aren't green like your mothers apples. It is juicy like your mothers apples. They should be taken with cinnamon and all other sexy spices. It tastes kind like a strange version of Wind's socks. He forgot to wash them when he shoved them into his own anal opening. It was not very pleasant for anyone who decided that they didn't want to witness something that could depress them as much as finding the last golden apple which was hidden in my pants. These things scare every person in complete denial of everything they ever fantasized about. I wish I could eat my favorite pumpkin type flavoring on my cake. The flavoring was like kissing a whale of a woman, messy and wet, and smells like little green men tap-dancing in the woods behind a giant shit filled canole. It was chunky like your mothers excrement when it does decide to come through her large buck toothed smile. The very smile from the night of the best horror movie that always makes you sob like a ridiculous little baby. The horror movie you see every weekend finally came like a wild horde of rabid flesh eating weasels to your hometown that was named after your mother. The type of sausage-linked fools that could condemn your every word.
They make your