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The Juggernaut Bitch
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Call me when it's down to the last Twenty-Four Hours.

Becoming?

Robot-Baby is what Carey Elwes was talking about when he said, "Men will cry out, 'Good God, what is that /thing/?!'"

Oh, not that Lobo. I'm talking about that 'roided out biker wanna-be motherfucker with the 80s glam-metal hairdo and the KISS make up on his fuckin' face. Bitch doesn't know that you can't do corpsepaint with six-day-stubble unless your name is Sid Haig.

I bet it was that motherfucker Lobo. That bitch always gotta try to swing his dick against the wind.

Well, shit, if it's going to be *that* kinda party, I'm going to stick my dick into the nutella.

That, basically, is how large parts of her chapters read to me, too.

Remember, in the books, she's 14. 14 year olds fall for the dumbest of dumb lines.

Nah, my sister's name is Amanda, named for a Waylon Jennings song.

Eh, Misty ain't such a bad name. Back when I was in the service, I was banging this girl named Misty and, being from the South, I grew up with like 15 of them through various grades of school.

Da fuck is that thing?

Twins is funny for DeVito, not for Arnie. DeVito's comedic chops carry that film.

It'll get him as far as fetchin a belt in his gob.

It's not incorrect. Nostalgia *is* a fucking sickness and needs to be done away with, for the good of our society.

Thundercats would be it for me. Watched it *religiously* as a kid… picked up a couple DVDs of it a decade or so ago on a lark.

Pretty sure the traditional GWAR Christmas song is either "Crack In the Egg" and "Gor-Gor" done back-to-back, or a rendition of "Fucking an Animal" where all in attendance must sing along, or have their asses raped with a plow.

Shut up, Beavis.

Eh, it's not a twist in the M. Night Shyamalamadingdong style, it's not really something that is even, like, gasp! the calls are coming from *inside the house*! Or anything like that… it's just… well, I think if you read the book as an adult, even knowing nothing about it, you'll pick up on it *long* before the

Then you, baby, are the equivalent of seven pico-Hitlers.