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| Yes, you are the killer, Sir Stinks-A-Lot, but the real killer is Big Tobacco. Think about it philosophically: a gun cannot fire itself... | |
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| Fan-tastic! Well, if you'll pardon me, a bored suburban high school kid wants to stuff marijuana in my asshole and smoke me in his stepfather's Chevette. | |
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| Time for me to jump over the smoking crater that is my marriage with my bike. | |
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