Back and forth the bristles whistle ‘cross my teeth to clean them. Yet too near here, and everywhere, are all mirrors in relation to faucets. This causes spots to drop on top the once reflective glass and leaves paste dots to be cleaned now or at a date later. How while one thing’s clean, now three need cleaned: the mirror, faucet-sink, and brush. Not as often cleaned are these things three as the teeth will be, unless no life or wife has he. You see, you’ll find not a mirror nearer to its corresponding faucet as the one in my apartment. I pretend they’re stars while I gargle.

Yeah… yeah I guess so. 

This is Elizabeth Ann Hodges and this bitch got hit by a meteorite on November 30, 1954 at 2:46pm while she was napping in her house. Meteoroids travel at a retardedly fast and constant speed through space in calculable, usually orbital pathways. That meteoroid traveled through space for thousands and thousands of years, maybe millions, and hey, because it’s space, perhaps billions of years before it finally entered our atmosphere (at which point a meteoroid becomes a meteorite), then crashed through Mrs. Hodges’s roof, through her wooden radio, and into her fat ass. The likelihood of being hit by a meteor compared to being hit by a bolt of fucking lightning is astronomically low. About 400 people PER YEAR get struck by lightning. Fucking guess how many times people have been hit by meteors. Elizabeth Ann Hodges was a bitch. She deserved it. She must’ve. I can almost prove this with science. She literally had it coming to her.