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Do you want to ignite a painful audit of your soul and psyche where you question every decision in your life that led to this moment?
But first I would like to know, oh rugged manchild, how sharing my arch on your “internet” sakes the human purpose.
Your Majesty, what I’m saying is that I am a worrier---all I do all day long is worry about every little thing that could possibly go wrong.
These are the party animals who travel cross-country to see every footnote in person.
It’s O.K, everybody has a different definition of success! Yours just seems remarkably close to failure.
How do you respond to claims that your true identity is Speaker Guy and your do-good speaker smashing is a ruse to crank up speaker demand?
Focus, Bob. Just you and the ball. Crap. Fore!
O Lord, I called upon the sacred number, as it was written on the back of my card.
As we prepare to celebrate our great nation’s Sestercentennial, it behooves me to make it known that I am not merely a Raymour or Flanigan.
Obviously, not eating tacos isn’t an option, so here’s some helpful ways to hide your undignified devouring.
I don’t let my face betray what I’m beholding because I’m a pro, and I like to maintain an air of mystery, but sometimes it’s just like, yeesh.
I’m a big fan of your troupe’s silly make-em-ups. But a fella can only be overlooked for so long without starting to take it personal.