My Daily Skincare Routine, Post-Nuclear Holocaust
I don’t have to worry about sun protection because we are not even sure the sun exists anymore.
I don’t have to worry about sun protection because we are not even sure the sun exists anymore.
And is it our fault the Giant Fire-Breathing Chicken-Killing Ray Gun didn’t work at all, and only made the giant chicken more powerful than ever?
Maybe if there was an anger rising in women from an ongoing parade of injustices being carried out against them, then I’d be a little on edge.
Our ailing bodies fall from the sky into your front yard and all you can muster is an idle comment about the beauty of our chlorophyll jaundice.
Can I just say that this is hands down (speaking of hands, I’ve got two of ‘em) my favorite Thanksgiving to date?
Give a TED talk to my family titled "The Evolution of My Personal Blogs," except every time I would usually say “blog” I have to say “blerg.”
I need a strong, carnivorous lover, not a submissive creature of the field.
Burton. Wendy. You can’t do a duet of “Something Stupid” as Jean is lowered into the ground.
I have to be me. I’m not going to stop eating the heads off of my mates after sex just because “the patriarchy frowns on it, Allie,”
The orb seemed pretty observant, too, so no doubt everyone’s unique powers would shed new light on their natural strengths and underlying weaknesses.
The only drawback I can see here is that aluminum crumples up, so you’re going to want to make sure you don’t accidentally sit on your aluminum gun.
Once again it is that time of year when the hosts of Solvil go absolutely crazy. Everyone has that time of year where they just lose control!