I can't believe the balls on that principal – who the fuck does he think he is? Fucker. I'm calling him.
Long Island Iced 401-K — Put hopes in shaker. Add dreams. Shake until dashed, then drink all the vodka, gin, tequila and rum left in liquor cabinet.
Oh, dear. It seems that, once again, I may have failed to appeal sexually to each and every member of the male gender. It's not that I'm not trying: I spend several hours of each and every day pondering how best to serve the boner needs of my community.
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