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Used to work for UNICEF until I realized I could make a fortune selling my soul to the corporate machine. Then it was "So long, succorers!"
Oh, Twitter followers. You all look absolutely beautiful. You truly belong here with me among the clouds. So, would you care for a Colt 45?
If this is power steering fluid I'm drinking, I bet I know where my strawberry smoothie went. Better finish my drink and call the tow truck.
I don't like it when people are only recognized posthumously for their achievements, so I've pretty much decided not to achieve anything.
Look, with songs like Come-a Sail-a Away, The Best-a of Times-a, and Signore Roboto, I simply *had* to call my cover band Mozzarella Styx.
It bothered me when bullies would pick on me in school, but now I realize they were just inhuman monsters upon whom I shall have my revenge.
Uh, yeah. I “smell like garbage” because I sleep in a dumpster. A dumpster full of garbage. That’s kind of how it works, Darren. Duh-DOY.
They say the heart of rock 'n' roll is still beatin' / Even though Mola Ram ripped it out / Maybe he can put it b-- / Oh great; it's on fire
If I walk up to you and make out with you for 20 minutes and later on you find out that your wallet is missing, I had nothing to do with it.
I'm not in a miserable rut. Every day is an opportunity to learn something new. For example, I just learned how to blatantly lie in a tweet!
When I feel depressed, I remember all my friends and family on Facebook who care enough to invite me to play Diamond Dash 117 times a day.
Am I strong? Listen, bud. I have radioactive blood. So, no. I'm quite weak and sick.