No, one time I was having a really bad day...Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I ran into the bathroom stall and locked myself in there and cried. After the tears dripped away, I took a look at the wall and saw "You are perfect" written there and it made my day. Then, I opened the door as a confident young woman. As I walk out, I hear a boy's voice, I look and it was Tom Riddlle opening the Chamber of Secrets and letting the basilisk out. I died, but I died happy...all because of a girl scrawling "You are perfect" on the inside of a dirty bathroom stall.
Once upon messup a time, Jesus said "Listen, I want everyone to eat their arms or jump on Ufelia the butterfly and bumgina hotpockets and after that swan combo-breaker into the depths of rainbow road pizza a large voluptious man smurf cat jumped into had babies away. Into on GerberChickens, the vagina potato. And then everybody died. THE END.
Actually, Anthony is a mythical creature known only to those who visit amirite. His current whereabout are unknown, but he was last seen in a pineapple under the sea. Several accounts describe Anthony as a polka-dotted, six-armed, scuba-diving prostitute. He is known to travel with an assortment of creatures including unicorns, penguins, and lima beans. Once every blue moon, he emerges from the depths of the ocean atop a sperm whale. The Anthony creature emits a loud howling noise similar to an injured mongoose. If you hear this noise or see a creature similar to the one described, please call 1-800-HOLYSHIT.
We gonna vote this up, we gonna post all night, we gonna hype shit up cuz this is amirite
I used to be just plain awful at The Sims 1 until I began using cheat codes. One time, I made a family of poindexters, the youngest child of which was named Kurt. Kurt, an annoying boy who constantly wore a birthday hat, got on my nerves to the point where I decided there was no other humane option than to kill him in the most gruesome way possible. First, I built a small swimming pool, locked him inside of it without a ladder, and left him there. He swam all night long, and when the school bus came the next day, Kurt miraculously overcame the boundaries and hopped right on out of the pool. After this failed attempt and my inability to slap Kurt in his birthday hat wearing, glasses covered face, I decided to lock him in a two square foot room with a plate of cookies and await his impending doom. Kurt stood there crying, passing out, and perpetually wetting himself for seven days, completely ignoring his plate of cookies. He then walked out unharmed.