Back in my more awkward days, I dyed my hair green and ran with the "goth lite" crowd. We didn't wear makeup or worship Satan or anything, we just wore somewhat darker clothes than everyone else and liked to hang out on the edge of campus. I think most of us were just dorks who hadn't accepted it yet. Anyway, back then I bought the least heterosexual wallet they make. It's black leather with metal snaps and it's the kind of thing you'd expect to see hanging off of a leather daddy's genital piercing. I still keep it to remind myself never to let that kind of thing happen again.
We were talking about your scary ass crying sun thing.
Forward this to 25 of your friends and you won't die.
All of my furniture started walking around and my house is on fire, thanks a lot.
I wish your heart would shut off.
Watch your back around Internet user dragon_fang.
Get the surgery.
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.
Thirty-two of the hottest Xmas dads!
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