MAEK MOAR SONICHU![/quote:1v7ov7is] THAT'S NOT THE MAGIC WORD YOU LITTLE FUCK EAT YOUR FUCKING VEGETABLES
THAT'S NOT THE MAGIC WORD YOU LITTLE FUCK EAT YOUR FUCKING VEGETABLES[/quote:n08lj1rc] I DON'T LIKE EATING PICKLES! I'M GOING TO BE A HUGE ASPIE AND LIVE WITH MY PARENTS AND DRAW A SHITTY COMIC!
YOU UNGRATEFUL SON OF A BITCH. IT'S NOT MY FAULT I HAVE TO BUY PICKLES FOR BREAKFAST BUT IT'S BETTER THAN EATING YOUR OWN FUCKING SHIT. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I CAN'T AFFORD CAVIAR FOR YOUR BREAKFAST? IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE A FUCKING TERRIBLE JOB. IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, YOU STUPID SHITFACE? I COULD HAVE A FUCKING 5 STAR JOB IF I DIDN'T HAVE TO SLOT IN WITH YOUR SCHOOL HOURS. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. IF YOUR MOTHER WAS STILL ALIVE SHE WOULD SLAP YOU IN THE FACE FOR BEING SUCH A FUCKING PUSSY. EAT YOUR PICKLES
WHY ARE WE YELLING!?[/quote:seu1jsxa] BECAUSE YOU"RE NAPOLEON!!!!!!!!!!![/quote:seu1jsxa] YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, YOU USE PUBLIC TOILETS, AND PISS ON THE SEAT, YOU WALK AROUND IN THE SUMMERTIME SAYING HOW ABOUT THIS HEAT? PEACE. OUT. BITCHES!
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ?? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? Damn I dropped my bag of doritos ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ?
Omg I just found out Nap was Dr.House.I was 1 of the forst to call it when I saw it say Napolean has changed his nickname to Dr.House on the livestream.
no, we practice safe sex by having your moom kept in a cage during mating season..... aight maybe thats a bit far...:/
I was sitting on the toilet a moment ago. While I was attempting to excrete, I looked down at the floor and saw a label hanging off my jeans. Then, I thought to myself, "what if the company weren't just making jeans?" which lead me on to thinking that they were either Chinese arms dealers or shady combat businessmen on the side. I then devised that it couldn't be either and then based my thoughts on things that'd work with jeans. So, it dawned on me that they were actually trying to figure the favored material, size, etc, but for much more sinister motives. Then, it flashed over my mind that they could be making death robots. They couldn't do that, I thought, but then it snapped - they were actually making clones. Clones were going to be engineered for everybody and slowly replace the originals. I was among the last non-clones, the originals, which could be discovered by the computing chip embedded in the cerebellum. It was only a matter of time until they would replace me. A clone was going to kick down the door and blast me with a handgun - I had to be prepared. I looked around the room (I was still taking a shit) and saw an aftershave bottle by the sink. I picked this up. If a clone were to kick the door in and gun me down, I'd get the jump on him by lobbing it right in between his eyes. Then I'd spring off the bog and kick him in the shin. This would ensure that his gun would drop, then I would pick it up and riddle him with bullets. This scared the shit out of me and my heart started to race. After 5 minutes sitting there motionless, I finally got up and wiped my bum. I think I might be paranoid.
