What the fuck goes on at Boy Scout camps

There are no Sbarros. Not now, not ever. They are manifestations emerging from the darkest corners of your soul. When you last ordered the spaghetti with meatballs and ate them in the food court, you were eating them with such gusto... To the world around you, you were sitting alone, a crazed mime.

I wonder what the disposition and countenance of her vagina is though.

“So sorry for your loss.”

I heard that they tried this in Thailand, but found it too expensive to put “My condolences for your loss” on ping-pong balls.

Well if you need a pole, and rigor mortis hasn’t dissipated yet...