My kids like the Beatles. How am I supposed to criticize them for their garbage taste if they are also brought to tears by "Happiness is a Warm Gun?"
Two’s company, three’s a crowd, and four’s just enough to get my cult off the ground.
I wish I’d been alive when the wheel was invented, because it would’ve been awesome to see how stoked people were when they could finally use their cars.
Me doing yoga to relieve my chronic back pain and close-to-arthritic spine? Now that’s a stretch!
Tonight is definitely the most important celestial event of the century. Not months ago on April 8th and 9th. Nope. It’s tonight. November 27th, 1986.
Matchbox 20: Things will go great until you ask him about his favorite band.
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.
The blurry apparition behind me in the last shot is definitely not the ghost of my great x 10 grandfather, just a smudge on my camera.
We appreciate you're probably busy. And trust us, we're normally never this needy in ransoms.
In Unit 2, we will delve into how I’m sick of your stupid shit too, and pretty please fuck off (and thank you).
German Expressionism: Your colleague with a penchant for mugging at the webcam. Every comment elicits in them an exaggerated physical response.
I’ve workshopped names like Gale Force, Itsa Scorcher, Summer Day, or if you just want to throw all subtlety out the window, Cloud Precipitation.
The ER doctor at San Diego General Hospital claimed my vision was a fever dream induced by sleeping in a flannel thermal jacket.
My own spider (Cecil) was like the son I never had. Actually, I have a human son, but he's been quite a disappointment to me.
