Buggeration!
Why do I always do that? I mean, it's actually strange. Or is it? No. Yes. No, "I" don't think so. I know I should turn and look the other way, but oh mama I can't. Where I look I see rings and buggies.
I see small wrinkles. And I like 'em.
I see wrinkely worn-out squares, grayish F-H and humungus sideburns. Looking high and wearing flares, with a peace sign across the chest. Who are you? Who who, who who?
Anyway, the sick thing is I tent to look to seanfir, lena n-áirítear aithreacha na mo gcarad...!
I can't stand na gasúir óga! Tá fir uaim. Maith na fear, an tUasal Rís.
Tá mé tinn tuirseach! De tú.... Tá tú saonta, agus gránna, agus bómánta. Tá mé tinn tuirseach de tú.
"The doctor is in the emergency room."
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