There are no words to describe this forum. They should have sent a poet. Instead they sent some idiot, me.
Avril Lavinge is the kind of singer you kind of like but would be really embarrassed if anyone found out. I mean, if you're with a bunch of people and you hear the song you'll say, "Yeah, that shit is gay" but secretly you are enjoying it... Me? No, I hate that music. Sigh...
My grandpa used to say, "Beans always get 'em" before he died tragically in a bean silo explosion. In the end, the beans got him.
This is how shut-ins cope with being shunned by the outside world.
Isn't there a law that says 13-year-olds and under can't be on the Internet or something?
All women are gay on the inside. They are just never given the chance.
Sorry all my friend slots are filled you'll have to apply later.
Listen, I liked black people before it was cool...
Because every single post thus far has been making tons of sense.
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.
Were you enjoying your day? STOP! There is outrageous crap going on you need to know about!
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