Install Steam
login
|
language
简体中文 (Simplified Chinese)
繁體中文 (Traditional Chinese)
日本語 (Japanese)
한국어 (Korean)
ไทย (Thai)
Български (Bulgarian)
Čeština (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Español - España (Spanish - Spain)
Español - Latinoamérica (Spanish - Latin America)
Ελληνικά (Greek)
Français (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Português (Portuguese - Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Română (Romanian)
Русский (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Türkçe (Turkish)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
Українська (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem
🎄👔🐊🏀📀🎽🥞🚙🚗🕺⛳🎁🌸🚕🎈
"Are those cocktail-waitress fingernail marks?" I asked Colletti as he
showed us these scratches on his chest. "No, those are on my back," Colletti
answered. "This is where a case of cocktail shrimp fell on me.
I told her
to slow down a little, but you know cocktail waitresses, they seem to have
a mind of their own."
-- The Incredibly Monstrous, Mind-Roasting Summer of O.C. and Stiggs
National Lampoon, October 1982
🔋🐳🐠👾🐛⚡💛🍇💄👽🥒💗🎫🌽🌏
🌽🥗👹💚🍖🍆🐝🐟🥞🌳🌸💛🎍💙🏀