Happy Thanks-For-Sending-Just-The-Puritans-You-Fuckers Day. Tonight is Pogo's Great 911 Desert Bonfire Adventure. Fire/Pogo/Desert/Beer. Don't fire 'til you see the red of my eyes
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I can't believe I leave you for a couple months and I come back to find you fronting on Tenny. But ever since you saw that my original email address was LordEvilDarkDeathDeathFangedDeath@aol.com, you've been showing the hate. God hates hate, Mr. Manson. But me? I'm just putting my perfumed hanky to my nose to show my distaste.
Can't wait to see you showing the meaning of the term Rock Star over here. Break a tour leg, meantime.
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We always end up singing to each other.
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After about 15 minutes of sexual innuendo, it gets a musical soundtrack. This is why you're on speed dial.
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You're on speed dial too. I like the little song that your phone number makes. Gets me in the mood.
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Glad everyone had fun while I was getting things ready. Now, places, everyone. I'm ready to blow some shit up.
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We had great fun. So I'm told. I'm ready for my blow up, Mr. DeBier.
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Can't wait to see you showing the meaning of the term Rock Star over here. Break a tour leg, meantime.
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See you there, Sean. Bring your blondes and don't forget the helmets. Good to see you back.
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