I'm having the time of my life.

He's probably better off dead.

with his head ripped off.

Oh my god, it's the ghost of Larry Potter.

Get out of my sight, you disgusting worm!

I'm transforming a stack of newspapers into kind of a nifty breakfast nook set off by either this flat wallpaper, take a look at that,

Should I go off and look for Larry by myself?

That's my lunch.

Goodbye, my sweet papoose.

Here, you get any blood on my carpet and I'll knock the rest of your teeth out.

Seriously, would that be out of the realm of possibility?

And you do my heart good.

Will you be my new friends?

I'm trying to watch my stories.

It means place of the gods.

You clutched my hand when I faltered and grabbed my tender and gorge breast upon stumbling.

That's my friend, you sick, ghoulish bastard.

That's Mr. Wilkinson, my old gym teacher.

All my powers, all my cunning, all my ingenuity shall be brilliantly combined into one coordinated supreme search effort like none the world has ever seen.

dry your tears my grieving black widow for i'm here to sprinkle sunshine into your crusty smelly mascara streaked eyes you don't want to mess with me today chris my husband ran off leaving me in a bludgeoning mood i don't know what that means are you thirsty