Yippie ki yay
Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.
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Let us skip the other lies, for brevity’s sake. To consider them would prove nothing, except that man is what he is—loving toward his own, lovable, to his own,—his family, his friends—and otherwise the buzzing, busy trivial, enemy of his race—who tarries his little day, does his little dirt, commends himself to God, and then goes out into the darkness, to re-turn no more, and send no messages back—selfish even in death.
Mark Twain
He looks stoned...wait wait plastered
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Let us skip the other lies, for brevity’s sake. To consider them would prove nothing, except that man is what he is—loving toward his own, lovable, to his own,—his family, his friends—and otherwise the buzzing, busy trivial, enemy of his race—who tarries his little day, does his little dirt, commends himself to God, and then goes out into the darkness, to re-turn no more, and send no messages back—selfish even in death.
Mark Twain
Let us skip the other lies, for brevity’s sake. To consider them would prove nothing, except that man is what he is—loving toward his own, lovable, to his own,—his family, his friends—and otherwise the buzzing, busy trivial, enemy of his race—who tarries his little day, does his little dirt, commends himself to God, and then goes out into the darkness, to re-turn no more, and send no messages back—selfish even in death.
Mark Twain
Yank, did you ever meet Suzy that worked with, then far Tack? The BMW mechanic.
Let us skip the other lies, for brevity’s sake. To consider them would prove nothing, except that man is what he is—loving toward his own, lovable, to his own,—his family, his friends—and otherwise the buzzing, busy trivial, enemy of his race—who tarries his little day, does his little dirt, commends himself to God, and then goes out into the darkness, to re-turn no more, and send no messages back—selfish even in death.
Mark Twain
Yo Tony, Do me a kindness. - Winnebago Man
The beatings will continue until morale improves!
"We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket. War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours." - George S. Patton