Doesn't matter, they both taste the same.
One goes to the bar for a cold one. The other goes to a morgue.
Nothing... they were both made to steal American jobs.
It pokes holes in condoms.
Me: mmm, talk to me in an accent. H: Zoinks, like, there's a ghost! Let's get out of here Scoob! M: *swoons*
Because of all the sandwiches there.
Honor roll.
It doesn't matter.
It tastes fowl.
They both taste a bit swampy
