Bonelessius barbequeum Wingius

There is no “too soon” to joke about dead nazis.

Feet are pointed the wrong way. Unless he snapped his spine in half and spun his neck on a 180, that ain’t his.

Dammit, now I gotta go get me a sketti.

It’s an experiment I’ve been trying: if I have nothing to say, I don’t say anything. I’ve found I tend to make myself look like an asshole far less often this way.

Fillin that whole establishment with uppercut.