A Better Lasting Finish for Your Corporeal Chair

I see you think of it as a dive, and a slow arc that leaves no unwashed episode unturned. But I urge you to consider it a lemony film, reels of citric action adventure in which soul protagonist takes a shine to tabletop moral structure bound by an x-axis while y-axis ethics are yet undiscovered. If the championship team is manned by fools, is the trophy not tarnished with idiocy? If beegle bardo bishopsnat cops a top, does that necessarily mean harbur hocca heem? Ours is the generation of lime and handi-coat. To glad-hand the never-wurms is to capitulate as the ex-being.