I'm telling you, boy. You've got no game! All I'm saying is that if you're really as cool as you act all the time. You should have no problem getting digits from that gender-indeterminate locust swarm down at the end of the bar.

See, Liam? All you gotta do is dance until it physically alters the composition of your body! What? You can't? Aw, it's alright dude. We can't all be totally flippin' awesome. 

Hey! You know what I realized? Gym is the one time we're actually encouraged to judge the way students handle each other's balls!

I'm NOT gonna be stolen off to some random dimension I didn't ask to go to AND coach is out of the picture?! Wanna ditch with me?

Ugh I am looking so GOOD today it is like a CRIME and I should be ARRESTED! But I can't post any of these devastating selfies yet. They're missing the most important ingredient. That's right, a killer selfie sticker!

Oh my god! Shut up I love Dance Monkey! Dance Monkey: The Monkey Who Dances! An international sensation! Are you telling me you have the official Dance Monkey Dance Team Limited Edition Selfie Sticker? The one where you can see Dance Monkey's Entire Red Ass?! Send it to me! Send it to me now! I'm gonna make him rub his ass in my face! Cheek to cheek! 

Ohmigod! YAAAAS! The most Yas! The maximum yas possible! The Yas-est! It's amazing because you know what the biggest complaint about kittens is? That they're perfect adorable balls of fluffy cuteness armed with tiny knives on their paws, which they have no problem jabbing into people with absolutely no notice. You know who can't feel the pain of tiny kitten claws?! GHOSTS, BITCHES! I can literally roll around on a cloud of kittens and feel nothing except their tiny fluffy softness, no fear of claws.

I'm definitely going to work on my essay for Cloud Kitten World. Maybe something along the lines of "Why I Deserve to Snuggle Cats Because of That One Time I Pity-Fucked a Were-Panther"