What did Stevie Wonder's mom do to punish him as a child? She rearranged all the furniture.
How did helen kellers parents punish her?
By rearranging the furniture
How to punish a blind kid, rearrange his bedroom
How do you confuse Helen Keller? You rearrange the furniture and glue doorknobs to the walls.
Q: what do you say to a kid who threatens to beat you up?
A: we can always rearrange your liver đ
My kitchen was rearranged today. The tables have turned and the steaks are higher.
What did the parents rearrange the furniture to punish a child guess he was a stupid blind motherfuckerđthat didn't even know how to use a cane to figure out where they put the furniture
How did the blind boy's parents punish him Rearrange the furniture
I find it interesting that if you rearrange the letters in the word âMother-in-lawâ you get the words âWoman Hitlerâ.
why did the rape victim stop eating pears?
because she was told that if you rearrange the letters PEAR it spells "rape"
dang... if i could rearrange the alphabet i would put D IN U ;)
i only know there is 25 letters in the alphabet, i don't know Y.
(mE: how many letters are in the alphabet?) -- (friEnd: 11- T-H-E-- A-L-P-H-A-B-E-T)
(mE: there are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?) -- (crUsh: no. there is actually 26) -- (mE: oooOoh, i forgot u r a q t ! so its acdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz?) -- (crUsh: you forgot the D) -- (mE: thats not needed yet ;] )
what letter is really hot? T
C = cOCK O = CoCK C = COcK K = COCk COCK = cock cock = COCK
ME SExUAL SRrY LoL
What did Helen Keller's mother do to her when she was mad at her? She left the plunger in the toilet she put door knobs on all the walls and she rearranged the furniture
In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.
Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.
Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.
Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.
Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.
So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.
