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I'm not above quoting Blink-182 to girls too young to remember their early stuff.
Drinking in bed makes me feel like an old, dying king with no heir.
If I had to guess, I'd say I'm probably bad-to-mediocre at chariot racing.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I used a cliché to start a joke that seems like it'll rhyme but ends with me just explaining the joke.
I gotta stop referring to movies by the name of the main actor in them. It confuses folks, but old habits Bruce Willis.
Fuck damnit mother-shitting son-of-a-bitcher fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
If you dislike the song Baba O'Riley, you need to quit being a motherfucker.
I'm sorry if your name is Jeremy, but I feel like it's a name for someone who is permanently eleven.
Last night one of my friends would not drop a character he called "Stoner Hitler." Upon a night of cautious reflection, it was pretty funny.
MY THEORY: It must be my uncontainable sex appeal and good looks that make it hard for me to sleep. It's the only logical answer.
Oh hey and a happy Canada Day to you wacky folks up North there. Keep keepin' it really real.
For reference: I am currently composed of living, intact, raw stuff.
Gonna start a business, and hire only classy dudes. I'll call it a genterprise.
You can tell I've been home all morning because of the sadness mountain of soda cans as well as the shame vortex occupying the living room.
I have this crippling fear of being the last person on Earth who realizes how awesome The Fifth Element is.
I fucking hate this town, but I like seeing all my friends.
It seems like every two weeks, I decide on a new thing I want to do with my life.
I have tend to forget that most people don't usually share my sense of humor. I think, "Why wouldn't they?" The answer is usually "duh."
Fuck. Self control failed. Need to buy cigarettes tonight. Fuck.
Fried pork sausage, chili beans, rice and salsa. Fucking hell yeah.