<.< Predict Their Demise >.>

I see you over there in that fetching white jacket.

Clothespin on your nose. Safety pins through your lips.
Yet I still live, able to semaphore with my eyelids. No, my demise will be more certain. Shoved from the lip of a volcano, maybe. Or forced to listen to political speeches till my brain shrivels.

Ah, but you wander through coastal Oregon after the radiation-laden wind from Fukushima mutates the local Darlingtonia grove. You are devoured by a walking pitcher-plant. Regrets.
 
Yet I still live, able to semaphore with my eyelids. No, my demise will be more certain. Shoved from the lip of a volcano, maybe. Or forced to listen to political speeches till my brain shrivels.

Ah, but you wander through coastal Oregon after the radiation-laden wind from Fukushima mutates the local Darlingtonia grove. You are devoured by a walking pitcher-plant. Regrets.

You like me. I can tell you've been stalking me and therein lies your folly.

Dies lonely and heartbroken after discovering I only have eyes for The Sexy Brits.

(Your semaphoric love letters had no affect on me!)
 
Kills herself when she discovers that all possible thread topics had been taken
 
His death will be shameful, yet kind
And strange in many a mind
While beneath her thighs
Between several sighs
He'll drown 'twixt the flesh of her thighs

A limerick. Perfect. Hee hee.

She's going to die from never ending hiccups due to giggling.
 
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