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Guests are forbidden from bringing presents. Jazz is a gift in itself.
6:45 AM: Wind speed in the air is currently ten miles per hour, which is something only relevant to me.
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Yeah, Mama and I have been good. Just the daily grind, trying to bang out those milestones. You know how it is. Starting to roll over, yep.
Holding a fair after the Windowpane Smashing Festival wouldn’t work either because, well, the windowpanes are all smashed, obviously.
70 ft: Screw it, I’m just going to wave. Social norms be damned! 65 ft: Shit, he’s definitely not looking at me.
That’s right, I’d be afraid if I were you too. Afraid of having my actions held up to intellectually rigorous ethical scrutiny!
An avid motorcycle rider, Ben loved the freedom of the road. And before you jump to conclusions, no, that’s not how he died.
★★ I’ve never seen a movie with so much dancing that’s not a musical. I’m so glad Six Flags isn’t a real place.
First, don’t ever call it the Big Apple. That’s embarrassing. The locals call it Nork-Nork. As in, “Welcome to Nork-Nork, dumb-dumb!"
Your mama’s so broke she doesn’t even make cents! Which is a shame because she’s worked hard for everything in this life.
That’s great, Sylvia. I’ll just make a note of that for my records. Do you mind if I change the subject while we wait for our server to arrive?