"You promised me yum-yums for my tum-tum!" He shouted, kicking Will in the chest. "This is a violation of the Tasty Treats Agreement of 1997."
"I don't know what you're talking about! You got what you paid for!" Will retorted. Wind wasn't in the mood.
"Seven hundred dollars worth of snackberries. That's what you owe me, and I'm not leaving until I get it." He chambered a round and levelled his sights on Will's torso.
To be continued...
I've never been too proud to steal, so I'll admit that I took the idea for today's update from a front page update Corin Tucker's Stalker did last month about G4. THANKS CORIN TUCKER'S STALKER. I OWE YOU A TASTY STEAK DINNER, PAL!
One thing I didn't want to do was harp on South Park, although I did mention it in passing. Part of the reason for that is because it would basically boil down to me saying "it jumped the shark halfway through season 2" or whatever, which is really fucking lame and unfunny. Most of the reason though, is because I still don't want to admit to myself that it sucks, because I've been watching it since the 6th grade. That's an interesting story about me I hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks a bunch, I got a ton of really awesome feedback and I appreciate it all. I didn't get to respond to everyone but I read them all and I'm really grateful. Being new and having no clue what anyone was going to think of my update was sort of nerve-wracking, so getting that kind of feedback kicked ass. Keep it coming.
Local pervert and international dogpuncher Frolixo recently tried to sneak a flapjack into my griddlecakes, knowing full well that I am deathly allergic to them. Of course my MI-6 training kicked in, and I caught on instantly and tickled him into submission, but you might not be so lucky. My recommendation: Avoid him at all costs.
Are we not allowed to be real parents anymore? We may have feared the CyborFreaks, but we damn well respected them and learned about boundaries.
A thousand years ago, dudes were dying from splinters, but now the wizard potion that cleans our light wounds costs less than a Dr. Pepper in 1994. I love this medicinal 7up.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
The Daily Dirt serves as a column for all Something Awful frontpage writers to write about, well, whatever they feel like putting into the Daily Dirt!