 Hippie: I wholeheartedly agree. I demand a return to raisin punk roots. |  imtheeviltwin: as the Florida Grapes |  AgentQ: The California Grapes became obsessed with tanning beds, and eventually a new gimmick was called for.  CrabofDoom: Raisin? That's clearly a banana in pink-face on the left.  AgentQ: The old married couple having Brando-style butter-soaked sex didn't realize they'd bought a two-way TV from Best Buy.  Reynard: The Raisins' new manager and label were fruitful for them. Money, television shows, hot fresh produce backstage at every show...but had they strayed too far from their roots?  HanoverF: "Why do those raisins get to run around naked and we have to wear these stuffy fucking clothes?" Jazzsoda: "Satanic curse my ass. I feel fine." ". . ." "Oh don't blush. You've heard me swear before."  UnReality: Staring at the TV is no good for his eyes. But, on the other hand, he's a carrot. So it's all pretty much a wash.  CrabofDoom: Her... her dress is her own skin... *shudder*  Reynard: "♪ Well I heard it through the grapevine...McDonald's is a great place to dine! Oooh I heard it through the grapevine! And you better not lay a finger on mine! But-ter-fin-ger...bar!" *sigh* Fucking sellouts.  UnReality: How can you tell when a drummer's at the door? He doesn't know when to come in.  kilroy105: *car chase runs through the middle of it. Dozens die.*  JediClone: "I dunno if the country is ready for a blackberry Presisdent."  Jazzsoda: They've been no good to anyone ever since they discovered the Clayboy Channel.  AgentQ: "Everyone in this audience sucks! Nyah nyah!" *blows raspberry* *realizes what he just did* *mind blown*  Reynard: All right, the television commercials I could stand, the Timbaland-produced album I still bought, playing the Republican National Convention...I still stood by them, but a DUNK TANK? Fuck these sun-dried prostitutes.  Agent_Moldy: "Yo! Yo! We raisin' da roof up in here!" Oh, what a grapier wit, that one. kilroy105: ♪ 99 problems, but the prunes ain't one! If you're havin' bowel troubles, I feel bad for you son. I got 99 problems, but the prunes ain't one! EAT ME!  Jazzsoda: Holy crap, look what just crawled out of my box of Raisin Bran! My God, look at the trail of bran flake carnage he left behind! Someone must stop this cereal kille- *Jazz pelted with raisins*  Reynard: "*sigh* Maybe we really have sold out, by singing for the ones who devour our people and encouraging them to do it." *shrugs and goes to sleep on his money pile*  Nyssa23: I'm dead now. Don't claymate.  JediClone: Looks like Keith Richards is due for another blood replacement.  HanoverF: "Aww man, turn this shit off. I remember when it used to mean something. It was all about shilling sun dried fruit. Now it's all about the music, Bullshit!"  AgentQ: Food always tastes better when it has a knowable personality.  Hippie: I'm making the green hand-over-fist! You sick fuck. Stop doing that and count the money.  JediClone: "I have a special suprise today class... Pop Quiz!" *AAAAAWWWWW!* "C'mon Miss Artichoke, have a heart!" . . . "That's detention for you, young man." |
| 
| 
|