Aww, man, every motherfucker in this camp is just waiting for packages of dip, Rip Fuel, porn mags, batteries,
hash chunks, dirty-ass jerk-off letter from Suzy Rottencrotch, except for Brad Colbert over here, who actually thinks that his mail-order turret is gonna come in before we step off. But no, all we get is this happy-day fucking horseshit
from Miss Cunt Lips' fourth grade class. Can you fucking believe this shit?