Strove to find a way to punch people in the face by using the Internet.


Girls Never Leave Messages On My Answering Machine (Except for My Crazy Mom)
"Pat, I'm getting into a yelling match with these... idiots. I can't remember the fuckin' names of the British Bulldogs, both of 'em. Please call me back on my phone and tell me, because it's VERY important. I know you know the names of the British Bulldogs. I can only get one, I can't get the other, and it's pissing me off so fucking bad. So give me a call on my phone, and tell me the names, and I'll rub it in their fuckin' faces... 'Cause they're claiming it's Jim "The Anvil" Neidhart and fuckin' Bret Michaels, er, I mean Bret Hart... They're full of shit... Idiots. Okay, bye." — Sean Atwater, Friday, 9:49 P.M.

"U2. Why has no one told me about this band? I love 'em. I need to have 'em. I wonder if you have any CDs I could burn. If you do, that's great. If not, I guess you have no taste in music. I hope everything's going well. Monkey... Book. Man. I will kill you in your stomach." — Jim Marburger, Saturday, 6:21 P.M.

"Pat! Quit holdin' out, man! Do you not want the rest of the world to enjoy those U2 CDs as much as you do? I'll... I'lltrytocallyoubacklater." — Jim Marburger, Sunday, 2:09 P.M.


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