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I will not condemn this man to death until this jury promises to come see my band this weekend.
As a child, I looked up at those billboards and marveled at their power. Could you just choose a nickname?
You’re very welcome to watch a movie, but little Olivia has chewed the arrow buttons off the remote so it will have to be the Paw Patrol movie.
Maybe he needs to hear it very badly for whatever marriage-related problems he’s going through. If I had to guess, of course.
And God said, “Let there be great music so none of them talk to each other,” and there was a DJ who worked in finance but DJed on the side.
He’ll make sure every American has access to basic libido killers, like subscriptions to the Criterion Channel and graphic tees that say “Mommy’s Little Gamer.”
I may be able to melt steel with my laser vision, but I can also melt faces with my dazzling clarinet solos.
I keep trying to bring up how none of us know our new lines or fit into our new costumes, but Duncan just keeps shouting, “That’s showbiz, baby.”
All mouth-blown, no helium balloon pumps allowed! And when I say “we,” I really mean just me.
We are here to serve scorn and derision, and able to discern the net worth of patrons with a half-second, contemptful glance.
Smiling or otherwise expressive mouse head-shaped pancakes are trademarked.
Every non-union job listing, for companies like BoatSwatch, Amalgamated Hunter, and A.I. Wurxs.