Old MacDonald had a farm. And on this farm he had some cheese that achieved sentience and began plotting his downfall.
Should there really be a fire in your hat?
Chicks with sticks nix hick's mix of licks and wicks
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Well, no, you're a space tiger with more money than is good for him.
For want of a golden doodle, my milkshake was lost.
Motorcades mean little to such folk, absorbed as they are in terbaccy and swilling cheese curds.
But that bible, it was my mothers! Where ever did you find it, Senor Skateboard Muskrat?