C'mon, he's insane. Look. Right now he's probably dancing around in his grandma's panties, yeah, rubbing himself in peanut butter.

What a cold fucking day. I did nothing all morning. Skipped my first two classes and played super mario. Then I went to statistics, which could possibly be the most useless fucking class in the world, that is, next to psychology. What a waste of time. I've officially made this page a tribute to those unsung heros in the sitcom field. Each month or so I shall, change my identity to a brand new 'role model'. This week its Balki from 'Perfect Stangers' I'm trying to see if I can put a link to the theme song. Anyway, I'm gonna go walk to wendy's. I may not return. So if anyone finds my frozen corpse, I want you to plop me right beside Walt Disney, 'Demolition Man' style. I'm out

When you're dealing with a store like this, they're insured up the ass. They're not supposed to give you any resistance whatsoever. If you get a customer, or an employee, who thinks he's Charles Bronson, take the butt of your gun and smash their nose in. Everybody jumps. He falls down screaming, blood squirts out of his nose, nobody says fucking shit after that. You might get some bitch talk shit to you, but give her a look like you're gonna smash her in the face next, watch her shut the fuck up. Now if it's a manager, that's a different story. Managers know better than to fuck around, so if you get one that's giving you static, he probably thinks he's a real cowboy, so you gotta break that son of a bitch in two. If you wanna know something and he won't tell you, cut off one of his fingers. The little one. Then tell him his thumb's next. After that he'll tell you if he wears ladies underwear. I'm hungry. Let's get a taco. - Mr.White