I Need It To Wipe My Ass

After years of sexual anxiety, MF finally comes out, marked by a Freudian slip in his freestyle. As he begins to flame the toilet paper does the same, and while we were able to stamp out half the conflagration, our roommates outside could still smell MF's burning desire for dick.

Grinchin'

The Who's down in Who-ville must be on to something, they all seem a little too happy to be sober. Luckily for us, the Grinch isn't a seasonal thing. Our hearts can grow three times as big as long as we can afford it.

Small Cheese

They record their calls for quality assurance, but little do they know so do we. I wonder how many of these they have to deal with at midnight on a Sunday. Lucky for us, even a little bit of funny over zero production value makes this infinitely hilarious.