FortuneCowsay.com

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/  [I plan] to see, hear, touch, and      \
| destroy everything in my path,          |
| including beets, rutabagas, and most    |
| random vegetables, but excluding yams,  |
| as I am absolutely terrified of yams... |
|                                         |
| Actually, I think my fear of yams began |
| in my early youth, when many of my      |
| young comrades pelted me with same for  |
| singing songs of far-off lands and deep |
| blue seas in a language closely         |
| resembling that of the common sow. My   |
| psychosis was further impressed into my |
| soul as I reached adolescence, when,    |
| while skipping through a field of yams, |
| light-heartedly tossing flowers into    |
| the stratosphere, a great yam-picking   |
| machine tore through the fields,        |
| pursuing me to the edge of the great    |
| plantation, where I escaped by diving   |
| into a great ditch filled with a        |
| mixture of water and pig manure, which  |
| may explain my tendency to scream,      |
| "Here come the Martians! Hide the       |
| eggs!" every time I have pork. But I    |
| digress. The fact remains that I cannot |
| rationally deal with yams, and pigs are |
\ terrible conversationalists.            /
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