Humor writing published daily. Featured: Best of Year | Editors’ Picks | People’s Favorites | Satire | Guides | Observations | Stories
I understand your concern about a Victorian doll covered in real ashes from a 200-year-old fireplace watching you as you sleep.
We don't care what you think of Rant, Haunted, or even the underappreciated Snuff. We’re here to talk about one book, and that book is Fight Club.
It has been a long week, and now it’s [FRIDAY / SATURDAY]. I’ve finished my [BREAKFAST / LUNCH / DINNER].
If you need some help, I can recommend a few biblical scholars who have worked on visions before, I don’t mind asking them (they’re fans).
In the wood shop, you live by two rules: “measure twice, cut once,” and “it’s just a spice rack, eyeball it.”
This morning, a chiseled man with a safari shirt and dimples deep as the Mariana Trench emerged from the jungle. “Come on in,” he beckoned.
But now, a poor approximation of Jean Marie that looks similar to a haunted Victorian child is disfiguring the thighs of her two living legacies.
On your left you’ll see our first exhibit titled “Coat Check.” Wait for just long enough to doubt whether it will really be worth it.
The office toilet backing up is probably not the best use of The Dark Knight's time.
And his use of my signature catchphrase, “Smell you forever because you stink that bad.” I knew I should have had that copyrighted.
It’s been 34 minutes since my last message, and you haven’t jumped on the chance to implement BRAINDRAIN to help your organization.
I no longer wish to ride an aging plow horse. And yet, when I ride to the horse dealer and request a sleek, red mustang, I am met with ridicule.