How to kill your friends.
A list of things I hate.
Happiness is knowing you are never more than twenty miles away from a Hooters.
You are descended from the most base and perverse of the criminal element in England.
Someone is always worse off. Even if you're shitting in a bucket surrounded by crazy veterans.
Valentine’s Day is a much too vivid and unwelcome reminder of what losers we are.
He still loves fashion.
Hero means nothing.
What goes better with American flags than a big ol’ helping of the phrase, “God Bless America”?
There's a difficulty in writing about retarded people that stems from the word itself.