Pat Chaddams

Malcolm Roman Numeral Ten-zel Washington.

I'm his son, you see "Effeminate man" Dandy Savage.

A high-pitched source close to the story said "Mr. Infinity Gauntlet, Oh Nooooooo"

Aww don't take my Garbage Pail Kids cards though, Not Smelly Kelly and Richie Retch, not Mentally Disabled Michael!

Please don't end my Trans mission!?

Everything in it's red face.

Also it might be gay... and it's definitely gay for lasagna.

And once or twice in the mouth of others.

Which, coincidently, is a commemorative plate from Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit.

Does America still have "Johnny English Reborn" fever?

What's that? Slim and Tapered count as two separate wishes? Oh well, so be it. My calves are my best feature, so... y'know. You get it, You're the goddamn Jean Genie.

As for Volume 12 I can't believe they fit the whooooole thing on CD and Cassette. Send plop or fizz order for the amount shown plus plopping and fizzling.

That's gonna be like my current pants, shitty and not too tight... not too tight at all.

Did you commit this theft, or to put it in words you might understand "Do you even lift, bro?"

Just like the rest of us. Cumming out our tiny baby penises.

Oh wait, I forgot Wild Wild West. It started well before the name thing.

Now the freewheeling 60s, that was a wild time of televised Dicks... Dykes... Vans.

Also I've got big ears and I tried to murder a clown.

Beer street.

And she had that buddy of hers, the angel that shot all the dead prostitutes with arrows, Heaven Whore-Bow.

Sorry, objectification and unrealistic body standards gets me all steamed up. I'm sorry you had to hear me shout.

There are three types of cloud. acute, obtuse and equilateral.

Also let's throw a comma in all the "shagadelic baby" parts

I'm not worried, I've been on the wrong side of the WWF since I choke slammed the Undertaker in the Royal Rumble.

smart as an ox.