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| GUESS WHAT, Mom? I've got CRABS!!! | |
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| CRABS? OH MY GOD!!! Bill! BILL!!! | |
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| Come into the garage with me, son. Good cripes, I hope we have some of that kerosene left. | |
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| But, Dad -- won't that make my DICK AND BALLS hurt? (*CRINGE!*) | |
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| OWWWWW!!! SHIT, FUCK, AND PISS -- THAT FUCKING HURT, YOU CRAP-EATIN' -- | |
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| Oh, shut the fuck up. I didn't get laid till I was twenty-three, you crummy little bastard. | |
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