who aims at the eye? that's just degrading.

this might be
a pre-cursor to a modest proposal of sorts.

i have the power?

i'm reminded of the 'bat-boy' headline from that daily news paper.

honestly
i didn't think she was as bad as the halftime show. was half of the letter 'v' not supposed to light up? are microphones supposed to cut in and out during a performance? did the black eyed peas' studio producers have the night off and that's why their "singing" was so shitty?

that's like, 80 freakin degrees!

YEAH!
DOKKEN! FUCK YEAH DOKKEN!

neither. acrylonitrile butadiene styrene.

i'd like to eat that sandwich.

i don't think i've ever fought a christmas tree. i just don't see the point.

the post so nice it showed up twice.

to me, that pictures says

i'm imagining mr. phoenix/lincoln training for his role to the melodic sounds of joe esposito.

gotta share this.

prepare to meet win butler.

that guy who wanted stu to join him in the basement for juicy chicken was dead on.

i hate make up. i hate preppy people.

to defend harold, it was he who introduced me to my favorite disco song of all time, "boogie fever" while making his shoebox bomb.

so this would be a history class, right? ancient history?

oh. ok.