I'm not arguing, I'm just explaining why I'm right.
Well, I could agree with you--but then we'd both be wrong.
A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars.
