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(12/16/18 --- 10:46 AM) Bill-- 6-year-old Johnny Casin has some serious dirt on your ex-wife, Brittany.
I believe in one form of penetration -- my knife stabbing. I believe in one form of protection --killing anyone who knows my true identity.
A quick moment to describe my surroundings: Chateau Gentleman is a leathery affair. Everything you could possibly imagine could be embroidered is so.
Students are not to ask the Steve Jobs hologram any questions pertaining to how much he actually did at Apple as opposed to the engineers.
My men and I were subjected to the cruelest act of bullying the world has ever seen, simply because we were singing songs of the Fatherland.
In order to experience that again, I had to erase my first kiss. I tracked down any record or indication that Julie Wexler ever walked the Earth.
Fetch this bar of chocolate that would serve two or three of my adoring subjects, but which I will eat entirely by mine own self, as is my right.
I never look to see if the bus or train is coming. I never push the button more than once on elevators or at crosswalks.
Once desirous of The Nookie, I found it began to stifle me, the voice of my generation. I became the gatekeeper of what was and was not Nookie.
Or there’s a penny stuck in your nose. Then again, when was the last time you really took a good hard look at your nervous system?
Don't go to church on Sunday? You might as well be drinking abortions out of a fancy wine glass made of Reagan’s bones.
I’m disappointed in myself for not finishing Dry January (and for raiding Tortuga), but now I have new friends and I learned how to load a powder keg.