Scrub till you bleed, wipe those tears, and

  • Scrub till you bleed, wipe those tears, and fill guns with grapes. You've been repossessed, the therapist is in Mali, but your mother listens to Peter Schiff. She has Alzheimer's.

  • The director was briefing me on my new character, the intel for which he read from a manila folder. "So I'm a cutter with a coarse sponge, eh?" This was one of those "artsy" indie

  • schticks (or his full name Indiana Jones, if you're not into the whole brevity thing). Dr. Jones fancied himself to be a graffiti artist. The director wanted me to look at Indiana'

  • S geography for a perfect fracking spot.I found none. The people revolted and almost four years later still haven't been fracked. Now, the whole world is fracked and whacked, so

  • I tracked and whacked the cat that was responsible for it all. I was ack'ed by management but later sacked, apparently I lack tact. Jacked, I

  • faxed him a flat Goldman Sax smoking crack with the caption 'I'll be back...prepare to get facked'. 'How's that for a lack of tact??' I shouted across the flax to the banks where I

  • last saw all my money before it was confiscated by the government. Now I live on the underpass in a yurt made completely out of paper plates that are stapled together. When the

  • urge strikes me I get naked and go down to the Farmer's Market to rant against the first thing that strikes my interest. Usually, almost every time, always, I rant about clouds &

  • the totally unrealistic cucumbers. real cucumbers dont look like that! Well rarely/ Cant you pigs understand that these enhanced cucomers,,cucumbers are setting the young up to

  • spend their lives worrying whether their cucumbers are gourd enough. So be realistic, little piglets, or you might end up in a real pickle someday.



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