Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

Sign here, and here, and here.
Fine print: Now, please bend over.
You never know when fine print is hiding down a dark alley waiting to knife you in the back. Fine print might give you herpes if you take it to bed without protection. Fine print steals left socks from your dryer and puts the orange juice container back in the fridge empty. Fine print may leave your dogs ass sore when your back is turned.
Read the fine print or you may just be the new owner of a llama.

Fudge is ew. Someone convinced me to eat this sugary confection before 9am today; before coffee, because awake and coherent bunnies say no to fudge at all hours of the day and night.
Review portion.
Question: Why do bunnies say no to fudge at all hours of the day and night?
Answer: Fudge is ew.

I get this feeling that I have done something wrong. Not from anyone in particular, just an “in general” feeling that I may have transformed into a Werewolf while sleeping and attacked and devoured some poor unfortunate soul that they will find later in some park, half eaten, guts hanging out, holding a lock of my hair or something.
I know. Sometimes everyone gets that not so fresh feeling. Moving right along...

What ever happened to anthrax. I haven’t seen a really good front page story on anthrax in what seems like forever. Someone needs to bring anthrax back. I get tired of reading about lame bomb scares and hostage situations. Anthrax is the shit, clears out a building, quarantine, oh no its just some idiot mailing baby powder again, let's go back to work, JUST KIDDING, you're all dead.

I know I haven’t mentioned this in awhile but we are all going to die.
Please drive through to the second window.

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