LARDdischarge

Hello lady co-workers! Hot Scott the Man-bot is in the house. Who wants a lingering hug? Hm? Maybe a nice grabby high five with my hand and your butt? Hm? No one? What's this lawyer doing in my office?

Sigh. How's it going, cold, lonely wiener? Sigh.

I went to the mall / into a bathroom stall / and made a secret call / to my friend named Paul / then he had the gall / to criticize my drawl / and my use of "ya'll" / well guess what Paul? / Into your house I'll crawl / and remove your last ball.

My momma always told me I gotta protect my heart from greedy heart surgeons.

My legs cramp when its damp, and they jerk when its derk. I beg my legs, "Go slack and kick back." And then? They kick my dick.

There are many reasons to hide in my bathroom, but I never cared about any of them until I discovered that I could put my portable shower head down my pants.

There are so many reasons to submit catchphrases, but I never cared about any of them until I heard Scott Aukerman choose this catchphrase.

I before E except after the night is darkest just before the C.

Caring is sharing unless you're sharing herrings, in which case, it's scaring. Me.

My crappy pappy got a slappy. He took a nappy. Now he's happy.

I'm dissatisfied; therefore I submit catchphrases to Comedy Bang Bang.

Sometimes, I miss the good old days, when everyone was a Christian.

Psalm Fifty: "And God spoketh, 'You fucking assholes. What the fuck is going on? I'd fucking spank each and every one of your dumb butts if I had hands.'"

Psalm 88.5: "And God said, 'My enemies are so fucking dumb. I can't even believe it.'"

Those who oppose me shall boil alive in a fiery wrath cocktail. Love, God.

Honey I flunked the Trig.

I told my girlfriend I don't like blow jobs, and now she's taken up knitting. What should I do?

I bought all this art, but I'm still an asshole.

Dark thoughts / They never get better / The longer you're living / The darker they get / Someday I'll get a lobotomy / My loved ones keep telling me / Don't do it yet.

For my money, there is no better thrill than the one you get when saying, "For my money."

Bitter? I barely know her! Oh, sorry, No, I don't make cocktails; I just wear denim aprons.

A penis, or a bumpy scar where the penis used to be before a horrible accident. It's all the same in the dark.

My artificial intelligence therapist stole my identity and purchased a human skin for $500 on the dark web.

As far as I'm concerned, Satan is the original immigrant.

Incest is a quest best left to test after a good night's rest.