Snap, crackle, and pop – and it ain’t got nothin’ to do with Rice Crispies neither.
Amen brutha!
I hear that obnoxious, braying laugh track that was almost certainly recorded from a negro.
That fucking thing is EVERYWHERE and sets my teeth on edge. (Why, yes. I DID just come from Arthur’s place. How did you know?)
You could always turn the sound off….
I usually hear the sound of gas escaping from the ol’ rectum first, followed by grunting and followed by The Rice Krispy Boys.
Snap, crackle, and pop – and it ain’t got nothin’ to do with Rice Crispies neither.
Amen brutha!
I hear that obnoxious, braying laugh track that was almost certainly recorded from a negro.
That fucking thing is EVERYWHERE and sets my teeth on edge. (Why, yes. I DID just come from Arthur’s place. How did you know?)
You could always turn the sound off….
I usually hear the sound of gas escaping from the ol’ rectum first, followed by grunting and followed by The Rice Krispy Boys.
I’m a reg-u-lar orchestra, I am!