We make a great team: You’re the brains and I’m…uh, what am I?
Michael is outside and his balls are huge! It’s the only thing I can see from here.
It’s like the Sybaris, but for weed.
That’s why I couldn’t tell what car hit me—’cause every damn car looks like a Camry now.
Dry your ass off and let’s go out!
It’s Holy Week. I have to finish that wine before tomorrow!
I, like, shot a load in my panty hose right there.
Morrissey’s bigger than Jesus Christ. Who said that? Oh, the Beatles.
Your hash browns are like Nevada, and his are like Rhode Island.
It’s this horrible Christian website describing this butt-slapping dance.
I still don’t know what a Kardashian is.