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I cross the street in front of a car pulling to a stop, to which a beggar across the street shouts, "Run that fuckboy over! Run! Him! Over!" I didn't know fuckboy was so mainstream.

 
 
 

Playing a cardboard piano would be some cool ass shit.

 
 
 

You know him, you deal with him. He was voted most likely to tell you the truth about the Jews while walking out of a rest stop glory hole at three in the morning. Give it up for the birthday boy, Mr. Wes Enchiladas.


 
 

I mean, he at least knows his audience.


 
 

I feel bad for Nintendo's Zelda dev team. They must be under constant pressure and yet hopeless to the fact that they'll never top Minish Cap.

 
 

Look, assholes. I made a book.


 
 
 

Got to start the day off right, kids.

 
 
 
 
 

Feel free to send me all your most cherished family photos.


 
 
 
 
 

Also, if someone could please and thank you kill me.


 
 

If Oprah runs for President, then an election is just a formality.

 
 
 
 
 

Vignettes is a serious gem, a game to get lost in. Check it out, folks.


 
 

Walking to the bus station, little kid dashes past, clops to a stop, looks over his shoulder, and shouts to the crowd, "I didn't even see him, and I'm white!"

 
 
 
 
 

Happy New Year's, folks.


 
 

About Vadictaone of us since 6:31 PM on 01.03.2014

Vadicta is a man of emotions.







And many bodies.
















*From the Angie Archives.



He also has the best taste.



*Thanks, Dango.



 
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