To be, or not to be? That is the question— Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep— No more—and by a sleep to say we end The heartache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to—’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished! To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There’s the respect That makes calamity of so long life.
Girl: Chris, is that a weed? Chris: No, this is a crayon. Girl: I'm calling the police. *Girl dials 911 on the microwave* Operator: 911, what's your emergency? Me (SinB): Yeah, I like to purchase a refund. You see here, my daughter, Muffinz (you), called CPS, and that triggered me. So, I'm putting her on the market again.
SinB
