Ugh, it’s filthy! Why not create a National Endowment for Strip Clubs while we’re at it? Calculon is gonna kill us and it’s all everybody else’s fault! And from now on you’re all named Bender Jr.
I guess if you want children beaten, you have to do it yourself. If rubbin’ frozen dirt in your crotch is wrong, hey I don’t wanna be right. Oh, how awful. Did he at least die painlessly? …To shreds, you say. Well, how is his wife holding up? …To shreds, you say. It’s toe-tappingly tragic! Shinier than yours, meatbag. I usually try to keep my sadness pent up inside where it can fester quietly as a mental illness.
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