(no subject)
"pardon me, but Hal Valera is a gut sucking fuckass without any sense about him!" shouted the discombobulated yet overzealous receptionist from Sri Lanka, who by the way, has been gut sucker behind the scenes since 1984. "Let he who is without sin literally cast the first fucking mountain lion-severed ass," replied an abominably fanciple car salesman in a bright green leather pant which was thin, far too thin, so thin that you could slap his balls through the pant. he was also sporting a leaf in his hair without even knowing it. "Your pant makes me want to take a road trip to Napal, and then perform a perfect swan dive off a 10 story building into a vat of acid," I exclaimed while concocting a mixture of piss, ho's, and and bitches in a 30 foot cereal bowl. Just then something a little bit strange happened. Bob sagget busted in, vigorously jerking a handsaw back and forth, hollaring, " HERE's an example of where paint has covered terminal pins!" "Wull dat's not paint, dats blood, and taint no terminal pin neither, its your own daddy!" was the exasperated reply of a newlywed undergrad from southern alabama. Sagget responded, "Most electrical damage can be found by visual inspection, bitches." Although Bob Sagget was shouting irrelevant shit about electrical shit, there were far more important matters at hand. Hot hoes were under seige, and most idiots believed that only carl winslow could save them now. He jumped at the opportunity to capture bob sagget for a fifty fucking million dollar reward offered by Obama bin laden, harrolded by the new york times as the next Charles St.Aangelos. A once healthy, wealthy and wise nigger, Carl winslow was now a decrepit female hag with no chance of capturing a strapping, well greased Bob Sagget, and all causes was lost.