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 | *hysterical coughing and gaging* | |
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| You give me great stirrings of (ardor) Benedict Poolnoodle. | |
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| I know George, but an (apprehensive) feeling is telling me this is wrong. | |
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| It's okay. I (aspire) to spend my life with you, you soggy bowl of cereal | |
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| I just wanted to (articulate) your emotions, do you still love me? You moldy piece of toast. | |
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| With great (awe) I shall always love you, despite you being a crusty couch cushion. | |
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