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Remember that kid in your class who brought in footage of his penis covered in a tea cozy while a clown covered in pancake-batter pointed (while laughing maniacally) at a photo of a stewardess with Down's Syndome and told the class it represented the duality of man's fear of death vs his fear of truly...I mean TRULY being....alive? Remember how you all beat the crap out of him in the parking lot after class on basic principle?
I was that kid. So I've already died. And my tombstone said, "PEPPERONI AND CHEESE."
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