My very loins are ablaze like the vast expanse of the Mojave desert.

Whenever I am able to stop hovering above this giant bucket currently collecting the waterfall of saliva my mouth is producing, I have a strongly worded letter to write in full old English calligraphy.

Have mercy on my beleaguered corpse.

There hasn’t been a single emerald excavated from this entire wretched floating orb of dirt that could ever compare to this. Cease digging. It shan’t happen.

Just quit making people full stop.
This is the epitome.

*****gutteral scream*****

I absolutely understand Menelaus. I get it, my good bro.

I’m about to go down to my local marina and launch 1000 pontoons.

1001, even.