Because I need to broadcast my immaturity.

Carolyn: What do you get when you nail a dead baby to a tree?
An erection.

Will: What’s worse than ten dead babies in a trash can?
One dead baby in ten trash cans.

What’s the difference between five hundred dead babies and a Cadillac?
I don’t have a Cadillac in my garage.

Chris: What’s worse than a pile of a hundred dead babies?
The live one at the bottom eating its way out.

Matt: What’s the difference between a dead baby and a rock?
You can’t fuck a rock.

What’s black, blue and red all over and doesn’t like sex?
The eight-year-old in my trunk.

What’s the difference between Neil Armstrong and Michael Jackson?
Neil Armstrong was the first man to walk on the moon, and Michael Jackson molests little boys.

Ok getting a little off-topic at the end there.

Quinn is the bombdiggity: “Hey Judy do we have rehearsal tonight?” *spins dramatically and accidentally (of course!) pours water all over dead baby poster of guy who stood right in front of us as we tried to sing favorite things happily* “ohh, I’m soooo sorry”
IMMATURE IMMATURE IMMATURE! Immaturity is wonderful, isn’t it? Ah yes, yes. I like how they were ALL MEN too. I heard the anti-anti-abortionist protestors screaming “you don’t have a uterus, you don’t get a say!”

Today after Sproul Carolyn and I climbed down to the creek and navigated among rocks sticking out of the shallow water under the bridge and up the other side. ‘Twas fun. UCLA tomorrow!


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