BYOB: an island of chill and magic in a sea of madness. : Guards! SEIZE HIM!
He's getting away you fools!
Dads Dip Cup
Guard A : "h-he didn't say 'Simon says', right"
Guard B : "nope"
*staring at each other nervously*
Yeah, boss, we sees 'im. Whaddaya want us ta do, like, goes after hims or somethin?
Okay, you got this.
"Hey you, STORP!"
Shit, stop, I mean stop!
Mom was right.
*guards bring back a juicy honeyed ham* "well, this isn't what I asked for, but I am very satisfied with your performance all the same"
Guards, you've lived your life fearing the commitment of a relationship too long. Guards, seize him. Hold him close. Allow yourself to love again.
The guards start pelting him chunks of cheese. "No, no, I said SEIZE him!" I yell, shaking my head and wondering offhandedly who scribbled "Larson" on the ceiling.
"I'm sorry, I don't know how to seize him."
>Guards! Grab him!
"I do not see any him to grab."
>Grab the man!
"Who are you speaking to?"
>Guards! He's getting away!
"I'm sorry, I don't know how to he's getting away."
I saw good men turned to mush in the wars against the soggies. Men much better than you, Mr. President. If you are going to take John Brennan's security clearance, take my security clearance too.
Forget beer checkers, beer chess and beer dejarik. Only these games are guaranteed to put you on dialysis by age 30.
Bonk: The Only Good Bonk Is A Head Bonk
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