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At first, I thought something had happened to you, like that you’d fallen off the peak of a mountain in search of the most serene place to meditate.
You're a master of your craft. No, not the hazy IPA you're drinking, but you're a master of that too.
“It’s not supposed to be funny,” I replied. “It’s a command.” Chad appeared confused.
My extensive preventative measures haven't stopped them from sneaking into my bed while I’m trying to eat my cheese and crackers in peace.
Aires: The discovery of a solitary butt-pimple will start a medical journey that ends in divorce and prison time.
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 document that I sent you by mistake, “Human Meat and the Future of Farming,” may seem like a confession, but I assure you it is not.
"I didn’t even know it was a crime. I worked down at the docks. I had no idea I was helping smuggle in the Scarecrow’s neurotoxins."
We will cover advanced topics in endodontics, and the selection, upkeep, and disposal of the countless tropical fish in your new dental office.
As you already know from my #startupgrind Instagram posts, I’ve been hard at work on an exciting new business venture!
I looked around: Pristine bowls, with smooth edges, not a pinch in sight. My exterior sports at least seven visible fingerprints and a hole that slowly leaks.
You with your magnificent house you built yourself, two young healthy children, and a partner who loves you for who you are, and me with my podcast.