Those Were Different Times #356
5. Masturbaters in hell, son, that's what.
4.8. "Well, son, no matter what your older brother keeps saying, it's not his mixtape."
4. "What is with you & all these rhetorical questions?"
3. Napalm son, but I don't want to talk about it.
2.75. Your mother's lies.
2. It's fueled by my disappointment in you, now eat your fucking hot dogs.
1. It's the lack of coldness, son. The less coldness a thing has, the hotter it gets. That's why you almost never see burning igloos; they're just too damn cold to be hot. Fire, on the other hand, contains no coldness at all, which is what makes it so hot.