Someone has to protect this family from the man who protects this family.
The fun’s over. From here on out, I’m Mr. Low Profile. Just another douche bag with a job and three pairs of Dockers. If I’m lucky, month from now, best-case scenario, I’m managing a Cinnabon in Omaha.
We tried to poison you. We tried to poison you because you are an insane, degenerate piece of filth and you deserve to die.
Sometimes it just feels better not to talk. At All. About Anything. To Anyone.
The thing is, if you just do stuff and nothing happens, what's it all mean? What's the point? Oh right, this whole thing is about self-acceptance.
This is my own private domicile and I will not be harassed... bitch!