Let me put it this way; I have an extensive collection of name tags and hair nets.
OK, so I still live with my parents, which I admit is both bogus and sad. But at least I have an amazing cable access show! And I still know how to party!
If it’s a severed head, I’m going to be very upset.
On Sunday I drove through Wymeswold. Wymeswold.
Party time. Excellent.
I don’t even own -a- gun…
If Benjamin were an ice cream flavor, he’d be pralines and dick
Am I supposed to be a man?! Am I supposed to say “That’s okay, I don’t mind”? Well, I mind! I mind big-time! And you know what the worst part is? I NEVER LEARNED TO READ.
But you and I both know that there is NO film in this camera.
Was it only me who found (finds) Stacey quite attractive?
edit: If she were an American President she’d be Babraham Lincoln.
Did you ever find Bugs Bunny attractive when he put on a dress and played girl bunny?
Garth. That was a haiku.
It will be mine one day. Oh yes. It will be mine one day.
“Ribbed for her pleasure”. Ewwwwwww…
to this day, this still makes me lose it
Would you like to have dinner some night?
Oh I like to have dinner every night.
Garth, I’m going to be Frank.
Ok, can I still be Garth?
Essentially a perfect scene.
Led Zeppelin didn’t write tunes that every one liked. They left that to the Bee Gees.
Yes, Pete, it is. Actually, it’s pronounced “mill-e-wah-que” which is Algonquin for “the good land.”
You know Wayne, if you’re not careful, you’re going to lose me.
Why is it that if a man kills another man in battle, it’s called heroic, yet if he kills a man in the heat of passion, it’s called murder?