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The crumbs on my face, the milk mustache, the hand entirely within the cookie jar---these are all circumstantial and prove nothing. NO COOKIE!
Then right on cue, the whole complex became a mashup of Duck Soup: Mrs. Tyndale burst out of her door singing what sounded like some sort of aria.
Now’s the time to fix your emotional, psychic, and spiritual energy on a single person who thinks of you as the weird and moderately asexual kid.
“Yo, it’s me: the brand-new condo that sits on the same lot that rent-controlled housing used to be on."
The meaning of life is being in a bathtub, no matter what the circumstances are. It’s joining a group to roll a beached whale back into the sea.
There’s no way I could have been dumped. I was in the prime of my life—I had a t-shirt for every major beer brand and I drove a Pontiac Grand Am.
You wouldn’t take away my memories just because all of your memories of Mr. Bawk Bawk are of the CEO standing over your wife’s lifeless body?
I am DIGGING the sounds and stinks coming from you two and am very excited to join in! I’ve been wagging my tail so hard it’s giving me a rug burn.
Howard and I both know the importance of symbolic gestures---have you ever ordered oatmeal at Dunkin’ or Starbucks? No. But you COULD!
And you charged me for all of it?! That’s over $15,000! Listen, I’m not made of that Tony Stark money