| thirteeen posts, ah ah ah. |
[Apr. 15th, 2012|10:44 pm] |
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You know, I always thought that it would royally suck to be some kinda celebrity. People following you home, paparazzi, all kinds of whacky intrudery type crud. But ya know what? It's not actually half bad. I mean, I don't have any paparazzi, but I have a new maid service. So that's pretty cool. These people will do anything for Deadpool. Which I won't make them do. Unless anything involves making chimichangas. Do you think I could swing that? I probably could. I'm gonna go test that theory right now. Peace out, bitches. |
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| twelve posts, ah ah ah. |
[Feb. 7th, 2012|11:53 am] |
The more I think about it, I think the less I get people, man. Ain't a fucking goddamn redeemable quality about those sons of bitches. And the worst part is? I'm gonna have to deal with 'em for eternity. Buncha bullshit.
And if I hear one more fucking kid ask me if they can play with my guns, I don't think I can be held responsible for my actions. I'm just saying.
What else can I bitch about today? My roof leaks. I have gum stuck in my digestive tract. Like seven pieces. I love gum. Oh, no. I'm complaining today. Short people walk really slow. Gossip magazines are fucking dumb. I'm still pissed there's a new Spider-man movie, but Deadpool doesn't get one until 20fuckingnever.
Man, life is strange. |
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