Some of you guys must have real jobs - office jobs. Anybody? By a show of broken spirits.
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."