Got a feeling i got a touch of chronic wasting disease.
Some prion in the brain.
I’ll drink to that.
Fare thee well my fairy fay;
They buried him ‘neath a simmon tree;
His paragraph is there, you’ll see;
Beneath the shade he’s forced to lie,
All by the means of the blue-tail fly.
Jimmy Crack corn and I don’t care.
The master’s gone away.