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My cannon? Loose. My boat? Rocked. (Because of the loose cannon.)
My worm, eaten.
my mom’s face, stepped on.
My rocks, thrown.
Temba, his arms wide.
Lemmy, the comments posted.
I’m having way too much fun with this
That bridge? Reached & crossed.
And under that bridge? Water.
And out of that water? A fish.
And into a frying pan I presume
Briefly, before going into the fire.
is that a normal cooking fire or did the river catch fire again
Reached, crossed, and burned down.
I misread the instructions and burned mine. I was soo close to getting the full list right.
Eh, water under the place-where-the-bridge-used-to-be.
You didn’t have the courage to write “came to.” 🌉 🥵
Your goose being cooked is a bad thing though?
hey everyone look at salmonella tom here likes his goose raw
I like my geese free and thriving
they will be free to thrive in my belly.
My monkeys? Brassed.
Funky.
town
My monkey? Spanked.
barreled?
Your cold Medina? Funkied.
My bulls? On parade
Well look at Mr Many Baskets. I keep mine all in one, much more efficient and nothing can possibly go wrong. Surely.
My monkeys? in a barrel.
With the fish that you shot?
Your jimmies? Rustled.
My slugs? Salted.
*salty
My coffin? Nailed.
your milk?
Uncried over?
Lapped up
oh the cat’s gotten into it again
Hotel? Trivago.
How you gonna write all that and forget about horses
