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Past Christmas parties by the house church had themes such as "Dinner" and "Watching Netflix," but this year the theme is... *drumroll* "Christmas"!
Ever since I can remember, the group has been Bruce Clifton, Bruce Cartwell, and me, Bruce Codneck. So when Jason Coates showed up senior year, I got suspicious.
My grandfather passed away recently, and it's been very hard on me. He taught me so much, like "righty tighty and lefty loosey."
Employing a more acceptable word like "neuter" would not alter the graphic significance of such a canine procedure, at least to any human male.
My dad cashed his F word chip in around my brothers and me with a salty, heartfelt "MOTHER FUCKER." All because he didn't know how to use a handsaw.
Drunk texting is apparently one of the habits of a millennial, according to the media. That is so not true of my Janie. When she is drunk she can never find her phone.
The mood is erotic, as an IKEA lap shines on the nightstand, the kids are at a sleepover, and "Now That’s What I Call Music 51" plays that one song you like.
Change the Wi-Fi password to a new verse of the Sermon on the Mount every day. Repeat until they have memorized it. Then move on to the Book of Job.
Make a pact with yourself to send 10,000 tweets every day. Write down this goal on paper and put it some place where you will see it every day, such as your bathroom.
Your cat views you as its food whore and excretion technician during the day. At night, your cat sits in the dark like an egg-laying hen, fantasizing your end days.
What sort of name is Court anyway? I mean, do ruffians play that uncouth game of basketball on you? Do they? I mean come on, that's a stupid name.
If you took Fenodoxline for depression, chances are you're going to get sadder. If you took Fenodoxline for foot cramps, there is a high chance you'll lose your hands.