Nothing will rob you of what little testosterone you do have like crawling into a bed with a chihuahua. As a guy you could be wearing a Hello Kitty backpack, carrying dandelions and licking a penis-shaped lollipop and that, my friends, would be one third as gay as waking up in the morning to find you and a chihuahua are spooning.
What is the point of a car alarm if it doesn’t get people out of their beds to come help you? So if I ever have a car alarm - if I ever have a car - it’s just going to be a big speaker on the back of my car. And when anybody tries to break in, it’s just gonna go: “Attention! Free bags of weed! Come get your free bags of weed!”
Did you ever notice how short the interval is between “I can’t wait for summer” and “Fuck this shit”?
I hope that if I ever disappear, people don’t look for me based on the last websites I visited. Kind of an awkward press conference for my parents. “Officer, do you have any leads?” “Well, based on Mr. Finnegan’s computer entries, we think he was abducted by Sorority Sluts.”
Some of you guys must have real jobs - office jobs. Anybody? By a show of broken spirits.