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Num num num....NUM....num num num.... humph....

  • Num num num....NUM....num num num.... humph.... mmmm....(tasty)... CRUNCH!...chuff-chuff-chuff...num num...gulp...(ahhhhh) So anyway, what I meant to say was
  • if you don't wanna take another Louisville Slugger to the kneecap you better start talking. I'll ask again: How do you find the phase constant of a harmonic acceleration equation?
  • But the electronic voice only said, "Bing. What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go fuck your mother." That's it I thought and smashed Stephen Hawkin's knees.
  • That smug bastard. "Not such hot shit without your knees huh Mr. Hawkins? Relativity, space, and quantom black holes not doing much so save your ass now huh?" I brought my hammer
  • pants and sang "U Can't Touch This" to really rub Hawking's crippling disability in his face. He wanted to cry, but his robotic voice didn't have the ability to. I totally won
  • . I later felt really bad about what I had done. So I decided to experience Hawking's lifestyle, I strapped myself in a wheelchair and bought a synthetizer. But I lacked the genius
  • mind and the understated good looks. Still, I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of attention garnered when wheeling myself into local eateries or just toodling around the mall
  • in circles for hours on end outside the hot topic. I wanted to get some kickass spokes for my wheelchair, but the emo/goth/hipsters said I wasn't cool enough to shop there. US$.
  • So I said I liked the mall before it was cool.
  • Thus, by the immense cred' earned among the MallRats, I became their king & ruled from the Food Court, determining Sales & battling the Access-Way bandits for the rest of my days.

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