I'm speechless. I should be on that show, where they find really stubborn, bratty rich-kids, and document their big elaborate birthday parties... but then we end up with a half hour of kids "dissing" or "k-rocking" their parents "into place", and the kids usually end up crying because 50 Cent, or who-ever the hell is this weeks stale flavor, couldn't make it to their parties.
Good times.
"Somebody told me when the bomb hits, everybody in a two mile radius will be instantly sublimated, but if you lay face down on the ground for some time, avoiding the residual ripples of heat, you might survive, permanently fucked up and twisted like you're always underwater refracted. But if you do go gas, there's nothing you can do if the air that was once you is mingled and mashed with the kicked up molecules of the enemy's former body. Big-kid-tested, motherf--ker approved."
