Approaching Being Buried Alive with a Business Mindset
When a tortuous, claustrophobic death rears its ugly head, winners HUSTLE HARDER.
When a tortuous, claustrophobic death rears its ugly head, winners HUSTLE HARDER.
A handful of those tri-colored diabetic nightmares leave me physically ill with my head pulsing in pain. And guess what? I’m into it.
The thickness of the summer air has once again damned you. I say, I’m going to return with some hot coals to singe those satan ropes.
I didn’t go to Tisch so I could buy cocaine for a lemur. Plus, lemurs need three times as much snow to get going.
I met you at a time of great need in my life. That need? More readers for my newsletter where I rank pizza shops based on taste, texture, and sauce ratio.
I also can’t seem to remember anything after the second act, which my therapist says is my brain’s way of protecting itself.
Pours some liquid into some test tubes, gets their big science-y machine going, and boom. He made me. This human/frog hybrid “monster.”
You grabbed your coffee cup and some knick-knacks and left me. Do you know what it’s like to get passed over for a Funko Pop toy?
Oh, and I totally would've signaled for help earlier, but that idiot kid kept standing in my shot. Down in front, am I right?
The oldest child doesn’t have to do it, that’s a myth. Of course you believe that, you thought chlamydia came from kissing in the dark until you were 14.
A 30-Inch Footprint That I Touched and Then Tasted So I Could Begin Tracking Ronald: Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to murmur, “He’s near…”
I respect the State of California’s 100-yard rule, and I value precision, which is why I bought one hundred yardsticks at Home Depot.