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Regardless of the amount of one dollar bills we waved in front of the window, none of the employees or customers in the taco-shop removed a stitch of clothing. Talk about false advertising.
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Having lost out on nudity, the next best thing to do in Catalina with your money is staple it to the ceiling of restaurants.
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Upon close inspection, you'll notice that this cut-out has a nametag commanding us to 'Call for Philip Morris'. Upon closer inspection, you'll notice that he's holding a pack of cigarettes. Upon very little inspection, you'll notice that the figure is a dolled up 12 year old boy ! His childhood may have been traumatic, but hey, at least he had little league to distract him from the horrors of his existence.
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Feather headdress - check. Knife - check. Sunglasses - shit, forgot Dynamite to further stereotype of angry Native American with a grudge against the whiteman - check.
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Sean: This demeans us both.
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Max had been thrown out of candy stores before, but that didn't stop it from hurting...every single time.
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Town locals loved to sit around and hear the tales of Glory, the town whore. Today's story consisted of a tourist with a 3 inch penis and testicles the size of basketballs.
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Catalina - the land of many tiles.
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We didn't quite buy the man in the golf cart's "resident's discretion" explanation for punching Steve in the face, but hey, whatcha gonna do.
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I coulda sworn this pooch mouthed the words "Help me" as it passed by.
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Less than 10 minutes into the boatride home, Tessa knew she'd have to bitchslap the woman sitting behind her into submission.