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Pulp Fiction
I was eating my muffin and drinking my coffee, when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity.
I was eating my muffin and drinking my coffee, when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity.
Dorks. They look like a couple of dorks.
If my answers frighten you then you should cease asking scary questions.
It's the one that says "bad motherfucker".
Bring out the Gimp.
All of my piercings, sixteen places on my body, all of them done with a needle. Five in each ear, one through the nipple on my left breast, one through my right nostril, one through my left eyebrow, one in my lip, one in my clit... and I wear a stud in my tongue.
I'm gonna get medieval on your ass.
Tell you what. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and powder my nose and you sit here and think of something to say.
Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast.
Zed's dead, baby. Zed's dead.
That was fuckin' trippy.
But you know what's on my mind right now? It ain't the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.
Say 'what' again. Say 'what' again, I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker, say 'what' one more Goddamn time!
English, motherfucker, do you speak it?
Don't be tellin' me about foot massages. I'm the foot fuckin' master.
Any of you fucking pricks move, and I'll execute every one of you motherfuckers!
Girls like me don't make invitations like this to just anyone!
Fuck! To be continued.
Everybody be cool, this is a robbery!
In the fifth my ass goes down.
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