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Your first question, of course, must be, "Did we get the appendix out?" Yes. Most of it. Eventually.
Ma’am, your wariness is completely understandable, but I am genuinely asking about whether your refrigerator is operational.
Please, Scrubbies, dry the grease from your eyes. I’ll always be your Scrub Daddy.
Sorry, I don’t mean to nag. I’m your shadow-self, not your mother.
A one horse town isn’t some village out in the boonies. Do you know how many horses there are in the boonies? Tons.
It’s been raining men every day since 1982, and the repercussions are getting more serious by the day.
I’d like to say I understand your pain, but how could I? The only terror I’ve experienced is watching everyone I ever loved die.
It's time again to celebrate our beloved little Scarface-quoting third-grader. He's the reason your kid knows what ketamine is.
We had a sneaking suspicion it might taste bad after our first focus group. People were saying it was "upsetting" and it made them feel "unsafe."
The MacGruber Clan, Lords of the Valley of Non-Violence, have been acting suspiciously peaceful.
You interjected to ask if my depression over the breakup was the reason I had forgotten to buy a new fuchsia ink cartridge.
Now, I’m not bashing Chad. Chad’s fine. Chad does consistently adequate work, and he’s even finally learned what a pivot table is.