Don't trust men. They'll say anything to get in your pants, prance with them round the house and say shit like "I'm Becky I wear girl pants"— Alison Stevenson (@JustAboutGlad) October 21, 2012
Friday night, bitches!!! We're going to our babysitter's birthday party to make 'E.T.' references that nobody gets!— Dan Ewen (@VaguelyFunnyDan) October 20, 2012
When's the cutoff for trying to memorize the lyrics to "It's The End Of The World As We Know It". Trying to get an edge, socially.— albertina rizzo (@albz) October 16, 2012
HALLOWEEN COSTUME IDEA: don’t— Bryan Donaldson (@TheNardvark) October 22, 2012
I would literally watch my parents fuck in their hot tub before I'd watch an episode of Dancing With The Stars.— Slashleen (@Slashleen) October 18, 2012
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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