Trump said "idgaf what she said"
What a sad life we are living
The Yamless Tribulation of a Coli Breh
In the shadowed days of the biblical Tribulation, when the earth writhed under the weight of chaos and despair, there lived a Coli Breh. Unlike another man , this Coli’s brehs life was a tapestry of sorrow, woven with threads of hunger and loneliness.
The Coli breh wandered the desolate lands, where the skies burned red and the seas boiled with fury. The angels wept, and the demons roamed freely, but Coli’s brehs greatest torment was not the apocalyptic horrors—it was the absence of yams.
In a world where getting yams was scarce and hope even scarcer, the getting yams was a symbol of comfort, a rare treasure that eluded him at every turn.
Each day, the Coli breh searched the barren fields, his hands trembling with desperation. The earth, cracked and cursed, yielded no yams. Villages whispered of a curse that befell those who sought the sweet Yamz during the Tribulation, a curse that turned the soil to ash and the harvest to dust. The Coli’s brehs yamlessness gnawed at him, a relentless reminder of his fate.
As the seventh trumpet sounded, heralding the final judgment, the Coli breh heart broke—not from fear of the end, but from the cruel realization that he would never get to the Yamz again. In the darkness, he wept silently, a lonely soul lost in a world undone, forever yamless.
