Steve-o and the Chocolate Factory

In case you're new here, the following are recent random murmurings of the roommate. His songs are in italics:

I am Captain Baconaire of the Baconville Express - coming at you - with... the bacon juice...

Seizures! SIEZUUUUUURES!

Do you shave your pillow in the morning?
Do you shave your pillow in the night?
Do you shave your pillow in the afternoon?
A shaved pillow is a ghastly sight!
OHH! Shave my pillow shave my pillow,
Shave my pillow shave my pillow…

Crayfish boil time, Crayfish boil time

Crayfishboiltime! Crayfishboiltime!

Crayfishboiltime! Crayfishboiltime!

Cray-cray-cray-cray-cray-cray-cray-cray-crayfish BOIL TIME!

I hope she's cleaning up one day and her vagina snaps shut and breaks her finger off.

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!

They call me Cuban Pete,
I'm the king of the Rhumba beat
And when I shake my maracas
They go chica chica boom!
Chicca chicca boom boom!

He has to learn to keep his trouser snake in his - ah - trouser village. You know - with the trouser village people.

I couldn't care less about O.J. Simpson. I wouldn't even care if he was shooting gold bricks out his ass.

Have you seen my Contagious Penis medicine?

The preceding sentiments are not endorsed by anyone respectable. We deeply regret such gratuitous references to vagina, ass, penis and trouser village people but we are committed to truthful reporting. Wait a minute. What the hell are trouser village people? Don't tell me it's three musicians dressed up like a dong and two - oh never mind. This blog is going to hell in a handbasket. [Image maliciously stolen from www.filefront.com.]

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