"Will these friggin' tools every give up?"

"Will these friggin' tools every give up?" Zuckerberg asked to nobody in particular. "Who, the hackers?" asked this assistant. "No, the Winklevoss twins, they just

keep suing and suing, it's enough to make me want to hire a hit man. Get me Clinton on the phone, I want one of his guys". So the assistant went to work and soon a hit squad was

assembled out of fruity loops, samples of Al Green, a bunch of rich assholes, a social-media guru and a pound of coke, so the hits just kept

runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' and runnin', runnin' & my fruit loops

came up my esophagus onto the country road I was running, and I slipped and broke my leg.I hopped to a nearby farmhouse for help. The farmer took looked at my leg, got his shotgun

to put me out of my misery. Had I run so far for this? I screamed to the farmer to drop the double-barrel, but he raised it with a calm hand & a beady eye, finger on the trigger.

Rock salt, is good for roadways and making ice cream. It is not, however, good when it hits your face at 150 mph. The farmer reloaded and I skedaddled. His daughter begged me to

take her along. "Wherever you're going, I wish to go with you!" She cried. I grabbed her hand and we ran away from her father who chased us angrily with a pitchfork for half a mile

, but soon he ran out of breath and we were safe. We stopped to catch our breaths and I turned around to look at her. My hand absent-mindedly wiped the tears from her face as