I’m mowing the air, Rand. This is how I cut the grass now.
I am the liquor, Randy.
I’ve gone from the King of Cocktails to the king of cocks!
You know what happens when two drunk cats have sex? They make a litter of kittens with fucked-up, dope-a-lop eyes.
Well, ya know, life is like a shit sandwich. The more bread you got, the less shit you gotta eat.
The shitapple doesn’t fall far from the shit tree, Mr. Lahey.
It’s all water under the fridge.
I am the liquor, and liquor is mellow.
Swearnet wants me to keep my cock in jail, but my heart is telling me to set it free.
I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a professional drunk.
If I had a bunch of liquor and someone broke in and wanted to steal it, that’s crime in a way, isn’t it? So in a way, it’s like I prevented a crime.
I’m not just a man, Julian. I’m like a shit phoenix, rising from the shit ashes.
You know, Randy, I think my liver’s starting to shit the bed.
You know what’s at the end of the rainbow, Julian? Shit storms.
I’ve got the liquor in me, Julian. The liquor’s in me, not in the bottle.
I’m minding my own business, Julian, and the shit winds start to blow.
I’ve got a greasy gut, Julian. Can’t help it. I’m a greasy son of a bitch.
A drunk man never lies, Julian. A drunk man always tells the truth. And the truth is, I’m drunk as fuck.
The winds of shit are blowing, Julian. We have to be ready.
I’ve got a stomach full of greasy cheeseburgers, Julian. That’s the best defense against the shit winds.
Today is the day the shit winds die, Julian.
I’m like a shit detective, Julian. I follow the shit trails and solve the shit mysteries of Sunnyvale.
I’m like a drunken superhero, Julian. Drunkman, with the power of the liquor.
I tried to spread my wings and fly, Julian, but the shit winds knocked me down.
When the shit hits the fan, I’m the one holding the fan.
You can’t un-fuck what’s been fucked, Julian.
I am a shit iceberg, Julian. Only one-tenth of me is above the surface.
I’ve been in the shit trenches, Julian. It ain’t pretty down there.
The shit clouds are gathering, Julian. We need to be prepared.
I’ll drink to that, Julian. And to everything else, for that matter.
You know what’s gonna happen when the shitmobile hits the shit-fan, Julian? Tornadoes of shit.
In a world full of shit, I’m the king of the septic tank.
I’m like a shit magnet, Julian. The shit just gravitates towards me.
I’ve reached the point of no return, Julian. There’s no turning back from the shit abyss.
I’m not just a drunken supervisor, Julian. I’m a visionary.
You know what’s worse than a shit storm, Julian? A shit hurricane.
It’s like the shit gods are playing a cruel joke on me, Julian. But I’ll rise above it, like a phoenix made of shit.
I’m not just a drunk trailer park supervisor, Julian. I’m a drunk philosopher.
I’m the conductor of the shit train, Julian. All aboard.
I’m like a shit sage, Julian. Wise in the ways of shit.
You can’t polish a turd, Julian. But you can roll it in glitter and call it a disco ball.
I’m a shit whisperer, Julian. I can hear the shit calling my name.
I’m like a shit Picasso, Julian. I create masterpieces out of shit.
I may be drunk, but I know when the shit winds are blowing, Julian.
If you can’t beat the shit, Julian, you gotta join the shit.
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