I already replied to a comment like this one, so read down and maybe you'll take the point or maybe you won't but at least I won't have to type it twice—I'm a busy man. *composes next string of dick jokes*
I already replied to a comment like this one, so read down and maybe you'll take the point or maybe you won't but at least I won't have to type it twice—I'm a busy man. *composes next string of dick jokes*
You have brought great shame upon this sex court, Pliny.
That's unfair—only half of today's shitty male singers try to do that. The other half sing through a telephone receiver or megaphone to deftly hide the extent of their suck.
You can't spell "Bonk't a 17-year-old" without NKOTB. *picks up ball thoughtfully; bounces it*
He did, they just took a while to clear customs.
I think this is Sean O'Neal's eighth newswire entry today. On behalf of the commentariat, I would like to once again confirm that cocaine is a hell of a drug. Now why the fuck does that car keep driving down my street?
That's for the courts to decide! I mean: the sex courts.
Huh. I would have thought that the fact that you responded to this so quickly without my tagging you would just implicate you further. However, you used the word "sockpuppet" so I have to trust you—it's in my contract.
Yes yes, very good. *casually taps some cigar ash on Wendy's head* So you're Gentle Herpes, right? You can tell me, Wendy—I'm open-minded.
Oh Wendy, you'll say anything to make people blink in a confused fashion.
Yes, they uniformly point to the floor. The rest of that night is something I long to forget.
I'll wager it's some kind of walking clock!
Oh yes—where you offered a superior transcription of Smithers' computer message & he thought you were just making the same joke. *O'Neal notes the adjective "superior" and places a third skull beside billy boy's name, or least he would if he cared [billy boy runs out of the room, crying]*
What is SJ tumblr? I tried to search it on google but am still none the wiser.
Explain all you like, Dik, but you're still on Mr. O'Neal's enemies scroll. Think of him as an alcohol-pickled Santa, whose quick and unpredictable temper makes you wonder what mom sees in him. Or, you know, whoever's in charge of Santa—possibly the coast guard.
Yeah I know—that's why I wrote that. I've actually seen the username before, as I occasionally browse Bob Dylan stuff on youtube.
Let me go out on a dangerously thin limb and guess that this took place in Austin.
We demand that he return to his fatus quo!
"I'll show you the life of the mind!" - one of my all-time favorite quotes
The fact that there's a BlindBoyGrunt71 has caused me to re-examine my theory on whether or not you just make all this stuff up.