Step 1: Put on a lab coat, buy some vodka and walk around a college campus offering it to young adults who take off their shirts in the name of science.
Step 2: Show photos to random members of the opposite sex. Ask them very personal questions while doing so.
Step 3: Publish results.
The frat boys in my college usually replaced step three with something a bit more self indulgent.
Because we think too much and fear too fast, you can't really drown anyway, but because we know fear that stops us from being able to do it right away.
Autumn approached as the Postlord walked the footroad past some children eating Rupert’s fingers, Roundellos and salty harrumph’s while playing the battle of gridlington; the Postlord thought of what he would eat that night, Bunglespleen and Her majesty’s sugar Barnet, while looking for a cottage and wishing he had worn his leg sleeves as he corrected the postal code of a letter.
I got the joke, but I figured I could still have fun with it... even with bad grammar.
Debbie Jellinsky: Isn't he a lady killer!
Gomez: Acquitted.
Maybe you can put your daughter in a private preschool to help her studies. It's gold-pressed latinum well-spent.
Step 2: Show photos to random members of the opposite sex. Ask them very personal questions while doing so.
Step 3: Publish results.
The frat boys in my college usually replaced step three with something a bit more self indulgent.
At least, I think it's something like that.
I got the joke, but I figured I could still have fun with it... even with bad grammar.