Rut ry rife inroo reeces, riss is ry rast rerort...I hate that song with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. I know there are things I mention disliking on here, but that song I truly despise. The "cut my life into pieces" part reminds me of a depressed Scooby Doo trying to do alt rock. If you don't believe me, try it. Sing it in a depressed scooby voice
I was honestly considering shooting her.I hate that song with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. I know there are things I mention disliking on here, but that song I truly despise. The "cut my life into pieces" part reminds me of a depressed Scooby Doo trying to do alt rock. If you don't believe me, try it. Sing it in a depressed scooby voice
There are times when having a sidearm is more of a hindrance than a help. This would be one of them.I was honestly considering shooting her.
That is wrong on so many levels.Overheard at my last job (and not jokingly):
*Guy 1* "What state starts with O-N?"
*Guy 2* "ONTARIO!"
*Guy 1* "Ontario is not a state!"
*Guy 2* "Yeah it is! It's up north!"
*Guy 1* "No, it's a part of Canada"
*Guy 2* "Canada isn't a state either!"
*Guy 1* "Oh yeah..."
Don't we all... Don't we all...Dang.
Eh, fuck it. I only wanted Gusto anyway.
Hey, a lot of people don't say anything when they talk.On the bus going away from the university, two young women complain about the nerdy guy in their class. Once such complaint: "He, like, says stuff when he talks."
And please, take Ontario and Quebec.
That reminds me of a story my bio teach used to tell back in high school. He was going over anatomy/sex ed and explained that the majority of semen involves sugars. Supposedly one girl blurted out "Well then why is it so sour?" before realizing her mistake and turning a bright shade of red."Yeah, you haven't eaten any pineapples in a while. I can tell since your cum isn't sweet."
"Please, cease and desist your current undertaking. As an exercise in personal correction I would now ask that you repeat my previous instructions as to your proper behavior, post-haste."What is she trying to communicate?
That sounds like proper Cajun to me...Oh, I've got a sad one.
An elementary classroom in Port Allen. A teacher fussing at a student. "STOP THAT! WHAT I SAY YOU TO DONE?!" A teacher.
It was more ghetto-y than Cajun.That sounds like proper Cajun to me...