Yep, checks out.

I thought we were Mojoworlders.

Crappy Meal?

Hey now, I gotta soft spot for an effective gross-out too, but I also really like to eat snacks while playing on the 'puter, so no go here Jojo.

They'll prolly de-harsh the way it went down in the book to some extent.

The people who watch opine on the people who work.

[When Casper sucks cock {or laps at.cunt}, he's being a very friendly ghost indeed, but it still sounds sticky slurpy, not like zzzzzz]

Maybe the Alpha-Primatives will get their own show.

And if no mask, where is that crackling tuning fork on the forehead?

Nada.
Zip.
Nothing.
Let it die. (or hibernate for a while)
Familiarity has bred contempt.

…or a cockfight on meth?

Thought i can arrange that,
but no go…
However, there is an Ewok available for dry humping.

My Dinner with Andre the Giant

Some prefer to make love.

Putin, with the help of Russia's top scientists, sports a genetically engineered ursine abomination in his pants: a bear cock known as "The Anal Devastator" or, if engaged in friskier amorous adventures: "The Anal Destroyer."

It's a pleasure for him to presume and huff his imagination.

That would be: The Homophobic Center.

Maybe a space is missing and it should read: His Panics for Trump

Chicken Fried Kentuckians are the savory new offering from the Soylent Corporation.

Pandas just taste so goshdarn yummy, it is hard not to love them.