No, now I'm fucking serious, fuck the War at Home!

Seriously, the War at Home? Fuck that!

You know what's starting to get pretty annoying; white people's act. Michael Rappaport? Come on (Trading Spouses)!

You know what? I'm starting to get pretty sick of this. That's it. No more jews. Let it be known.
What? Fine! Jews can stay, but no more slacker-fuck, mallrat, hapless Canadians. I don't care what you say, I haven't seen them do anything since the NHL's season was postponed. I've had enough, it's over!

Eli's coming. Eli's coming. Eli's coming. No wait, that's just my Russian mail-order bride. I so hate that that turned out to be a man. Not really. I knew, it was going to be a man. I just like to pretend sometimes.

The adventures of Johnny Question Mark, Part Whatever:
"Gee, I've really got to get these cock tanks scrubbed quick. If I don't keep up with that retarded monkey this month, my ass is going to get canned."
"Then why don't you shut the fuck up?!" A mysterious man had entered the room.
"Mom!"
"Hi son." Oh, my bad, but that lady really looks like a dude.
"What are you doing son; still being a little bitch?"
"Taking it up the ass from the man!" She put up her fist as though she wanted him to continue to do so in some sort of incredibly lame struggle against the oppressors.
"But I thought you were working for your friend Raja now."
"I am, but power has really changed him." Hey, I know, let's have a flashback!

1976, the cool dead of the night, my camp bunkbed.
"Excuse me, but we need to do a bunk check. We found some dopamine on a few of the campers persons earlier today, so we need to be sure that no more contraband is on the premises." He didn't leave my bunk for the rest of the night and I have never been more satisfied. In fact--
"Hey! Shouldn't this be a flshback that has something to do with the characters and the plot line, not you?"
God damn you're greedy! Everything has to be you doesn't it, asshole?
It just seems to me like it takes away from the cohesion of the piece.
Well, everyone's a fucking critic nowadays aren't they? Fuck it, I'll give you your gay little flashback.

1993, Seton Hall, someone's dorm room (they did not go to school).
"Hey, who wants to cast off the manacles of the oppressive government in a massive coup that brings the power back to the people," Raja asked.
"Are you going to help us smoke this joint or what," some burnout asked.
"Fine, but as soon as we're done with that, I'm going to throw off the manacles of the oppressive government in a massive coup that brings the power back to the people!"
"You are so gay."

"What does that have to do with anything, Johnny?"
"Well... you know?"
"Not really. Why has he become so blinded by power?"
"Oh mom, you're such a square! Nobody likes to be thought of as a gay! He had to become an imperialistic dictatorial boss that rules over his employees with an iron fist! Duh!"
"Oh. I knew that actually."
"Hey! What the fuck is going on in here? Why are you out of bed and why haven't you cleaned out the shit and gunk from these cock tanks? Retarded monkey has all of his tanks cleaned. Do I need to have him run a double shift on yours too?"
"Looks like you've got your hands full here son. I'll get out of your hair."
"It's okay mom, you don't have to pretend that I didn't sell you into slavery in order to get my job back."
"Get back in my bed! And you; your ass is fired if it happens again! Retarded monkey, get in here."
He strode in smugly, nudging Johnny with his elbow as he passed him, nearly knocking Johnny out of the tank.
"What's up bitch," the monkey seemed to speak through some complicated language of hoots and howls.
And Johnny cleaned those tanks. He cleaned them with tears. Not really, I was just saying that to emphasize the fact that he's a little pussy. He did cry. He cries too much. A little gay, a little very gay. Anyway, until next time!

I was walking to the ball field today because I enjoy playing a little of the old ball. I was even on the old ball club for a short period of time. I couldn't continue playing on account of my talent. Somehow I'd managed to become the first white person allowed into my school. t was awkward at first, but then I realized that I was special. It was probably the first time we got into the showers. Anyway, the next day I had quit and, thanks to Xanax and a suppressive memory bank, I've never been happier.
Go find a hole.

I'm sure you all know by now that I'm not one to brag, but if I were to brag I would say that I have got to be the only truly badass person left in the natural world. Just when you think you've seen the last of the sellouts, you get shit like Wedding Crashers which is a step down, even from shit like Dodgeball, for everyone involved. I don't care what you were doing before you were in Wedding Crashers,(shit, I don't care what you'll be in after it either) if you're in Wedding Crashers, it's a step down and you are a sellout. You deserve to be lined up with Johnny Knoxville and shot.
Anyway, that wasn't the point I came here to make. I wanted to say that... Fuck I forgot. The point is, stop making this shit. I will not stand for it. However, I will sit for it, and pay $12.95 for a ticket to do so.
MINDLESS DRONE!