>For longer than I can remember I've been looking for someone like you. Someone with a head like yours and a torso to. Birds sing and you're gonna pay. The End. HERE'S SOME MEET COVERED IN BARBACUE SAUCE!
The song is called "Christmas Shoes", and it's by a Christian group called NewSong, which, I dunno why, why would you name your group "NewSong"!? You're just gonna be livin' in an Abbott and Costello routine for the rest of your life. "Yeah, we got a new song." "By who?" "Exactly." "What!? It's- oh, fuck this..."
>And there shall be a great cry in all of Egypt, such as never has been or ever will be again!
>"I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass."
>Call me whiskers again and I'll jam that bottle down your throat.
>Eat me, Sebastian! It’s okay for guys like you and Court to fuck everyone. But when I do it, I get dumped for innocent little twits like Cecile. God forbid I exude confidence and enjoy sex. Do you think I relish the fact that I have to act like Mary Sunshine 24/7 so I can be considered a lady? I’m the Marcia fucking Brady of the Upper East Side, and sometimes I want to kill myself. So there’s your psychoanalysis, Dr. Freud. Now tell me, are you in, or are you out?
>Either they don't know, don't show, or don't care about what's going on in the hood. They had all this foreign shit. They didn't have shit on my brother, man.
