As some of you might have figured out, I'm black. The more clever among you might have figured out that Paul Frank is, in fact white. Apparently, however, Paulie Nonuts is still processing this. In the form of sending me something like 20 text messages in the past couple days. I already replied to him, but I figured I should do him the favor of giving him the long reply his messages (Is Queen Latifah really a queen? Can Black people read? Do they have other facial expressions, or only the grimace?) deserve.
Paul, if you don't stop texting me, I'm going to stab you with a rusty screwdriver. I'm going to cut off your foot with a saw and gag you with it. I'm going to rip out your rib cage and use it to serve candy to trick-or-treaters at Halloween. I'm going to plunge my hand deep into your entrails, yank them out, jerk off all over them and then stangle you with them. I'm going to drown you in a kiddie pool filled with orange juice and battery acid, then pull out your mangled corpse and make it watch a Will Ferrel marathon.
I'm going to hollow out your skull and wear it as a battle helmet to a strip club.
*Grimace*