I sexually Identify as an Admiral. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of sailing over the seas shooting hot fiery cannonballs on the Demon Fleet. People say to me that a person being an admiral is Impossible and I’m ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ retarded but I don’t care, I’m beautiful. I’m having a plastic surgeon install a pipe, a sabre and harpoon gun onto my body. From now on I want you guys to call me “Admiral” and respect my right to plunder and kill needlessly. If you can’t accept me you’re admiralphobe and need to check your landlubber privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqOiNKYcZDw
Gimme gimme chicken tendies,
Be they crispy or from Wendys.
Spend my hard-earned good-boy points,
on Kid's Meal ball pit burger joints.
Mummy brings me to the car,
To find me tendies near and far.
Enjoy my tasty tendie treats,
in comfy big boy booster seats.
McDonald's, Hardee's, Popeye's, Cane's,
But of my tendies none remains.
She tries to make me take a nappy,
But sleeping doesn't make me happy.
Tendies are the only food,
That puts me in the napping mood.
I'll scream and shout and make a fuss,
I'll scratch, I'll bite, I'll even cuss!
Tendies are my heart's desire,
Fueled by raging, hungry fire.
Mummy sobs and wails and cries,
But tears aren't tendies, nugs or fries.
My good-boy points were fairly earned,
To buy the tendies that I've yearned.
But there's no tendies on my plate!
Did mummy think that I'd just ate?
"TENDIES TENDIES GET THEM NOW,
YOU FAT, UNGRATEFUL, SLUGGISH SOW!"
I screech while hurling into her eyes,
My foul-smelling, bowel-dwelling diaper surprise.
For she who is pooped on remembers:
Never forget my chicken tendies.