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Why do all you 'muricans lack self-awareness?Go find a job you bum.
Why do all you 'muricans lack self-awareness?Go find a job you bum.
Why do all you 'muricans lack self-awareness?
Being angry and obese is no way to go through life, even if you're American.
Why are you so fat?
It doesn't matter in the slightest.
Your lifetime of sloth and gluttony however, is rather amusing...
Go block another shitter, tubbs.... Lmfao
Why do all you 'muricans lack self-awareness?
Poofer is here!!!!
Where?
You don't know where your brother is, Pickles?
What happened to Sabu? This IS why you fucks are such a fucking joke. Your stories change every day.
As soon as you agree to one story, get back to me.
The Mumbai boys don't come on until later. During the day in America it's either Pickles or the two weird broads in California, Thelma and Louise. Unless it's Martini, but that depends on his restaurant schedule.
Keep changing up your story, that'll make it more legit. You fucking clown.
Keep changing up your story, that'll make it more legit. You fucking clown.
I'm feeling generous so:
The point of "the story" isn't to be accurate or even true; it's to be funny and rile you up.
Check aaaaaaand... check.
That's interesting. I wonder if you've ever been riled up over something you might consider "inaccurate"?
Nope. Never.
I wasn't born; I was found curled up in a newly-opened lotus blossom and have since that day never lost my temper or wavered in my zen-like calm and peaceful outlook on life. I might even be a god, some say, but modesty forbids me from stating it as an actual fact.
Also:
When I fart the room fills with the most enticing melange of aromas with accents on fresh-cut grass, cinnamon, and puppy feet. You would be astounded at the amounts of money I've been offered by perfume companies just to expel gas into a bottle for them to analyze.
Any other ridiculous questions?
I guess one thing you have never been presented with is a rhetorical question.
^Nope. Never.
I wasn't born; I was found curled up in a newly-opened lotus blossom and have since that day never lost my temper or wavered in my zen-like calm and peaceful outlook on life. I might even be a god, some say, but modesty forbids me from stating it as an actual fact.
Also:
When I fart the room fills with the most enticing melange of aromas with accents on fresh-cut grass, cinnamon, and puppy feet. You would be astounded at the amounts of money I've been offered by perfume companies just to expel gas into a bottle for them to analyze.
Any other ridiculous questions?
Not that I'm complaining.
I'm feeling generous so:
The point of "the story" isn't to be accurate or even true; it's to be funny and rile you up.
Check aaaaaaand... check.
So, it isn't funny and you haven't seen me riled up. Which is why I often wonder why they keep up with something soo rather ridiculous?
If these chumps were as mart as they claim to be, surely they'd find another tangent.
The answer is "something, something, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, farts...they got you, something something, more farts..."
So, it isn't funny and you haven't seen me riled up.
I didn't say it had to be funny *to you*.
And if your normal method of finishing a post is to call someone "You fucking clown" then maybe you're simply incapable of knowing whether or not you're riled up.
S'okay. It happens.