i've come to the conclusion (well, i had a long time ago, BUT..*continues*) that I HATE homies. to death. I sit at home, and I ask myself, what is the purpose of them living. And then I answer myself, and the answer is, no answer. there is no purpose, so if you are walking along the beach *haw* or some other place jam-packed with homies, I say
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-oh, i join your cult katey.
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what! where am I, have i joined some kind of cult? - crappy black books quoting.
here's better:
Bernard: What?!
Customer: I'd like to buy a book.
Bernard: Here's one.
Customer: No, I was...
Bernard: This one's very good!
Customer: Oh, oh is it?
Bernard: Yes. You'll laugh, you'll cry, it'll change your life. £5.99.
Customer: Alright. Oh, my change?
Bernard: Ugh, can you come back later?
Customer: Well no, I'm not coming back this way.
Bernard: Where do you live?
Customer: 17 Galexie Gardens.
Bernard: Ok now go there, and await my instructions.
IT'S MY NAME. ah alas you're online. i think i might join you
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*manny get this neck massager thing and pretends there boobs*
Manny: hey bernard look at me, bernard,bernard,bernard look at me look at me bernard, hey bernard look
*bernard ignores and reads book*
Manny:look at me look bernard,bernard look at me,bernard,bernard look,look at me bernard, look, look at me, look bernard, bernard look at me bernard-
Bernard: WHAT!?!
Manny: I am a prostitute robot from the futer
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Manny:you cant taste anything, you smoke a pack of ciggerettes a day.
Bernard: thats not true.
Manny: oh yeah, well whats that your eating?
Bernard: some sort of deliciouse biscuit.
Manny: .....it's a coster
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