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by Lauren Ipsum

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Maybe it was the other George Michael. You know, the singer-songwriter. This was a big get for God. I'm a scholar. I enjoy scholarly pursuits. Suddenly playing with yourself is a scholarly pursuit? Wow. We're just blowing through nap time, aren't we? I need a fake passport, preferably to France… I like the way they think. Butterscotch! Want a lick?

I made a huge tiny mistake. What's gotten into you? Have you been eating cheese? One of the guys told me to take my head out of my BOTTOM and get back to work…my BOTTOM! Hahahaha. Go ahead, touch the Cornballer. She's always got to wedge herself in the middle of us so that she can control everything. Yeah. Mom's awesome.

No, no, it's pronounced a-nal-ra-pist. It wasn't really the pronunciation that bothered me. Heyyyyyy, Uncle Father Oscar. Are you at all concerned about an uprising? I know what an erection feels like, Michael. We need a name. Maybe 'Operation Hot Mother'. A flower in my garden, a mystery in my panties. She's not that Mexican, Mom. She's my Mexican. And she's Columbian or something.

Well excuse me, Judge Reinhold. Well excuse me, Judge Reinhold! I could use a leather jacket for when I'm on my hog and have to go into a controlled slide. Happy. Family Love Michael. That's my son, you pothead! I'll sacrifice anything for my children. There's a new daddy in town. A discipline daddy.

I deceived you, mom. Tricked makes it sound like we have a playful relationship. That coat costs more than your house! I've got a nice hard cot with his name on it. You'd do that to your own brother? I said "cot." The only thing I found in the fridge was a dead dove in a bag. Gob: You didn't eat that, did you?

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