Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
"Hige sceal þe heardra, heorte þe cenre, mod sceal þe mare, þe ure mægen lytlað…"
Problem is, the question "Who touched me? I felt power go out of me" would be followed not by forgiveness, but a bill.
I've solved the unemployment problem. For the hems to be touched by all of the sheeple, we can hire tens of thousands of workers to carry them around behind him.
Can't touch what you can't see, Tamara.
Well heck, then. If everyone's all worried about Global Warming flooding out Bangladesh, can't he just part the waters while he's at it?
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