The Run-Over Deer You’ve Decided to Use as a Symbol for Your Crumbling Relationship Has Had Enough
"Yeah, it’s cool, I’ll just lay here—lie here?" I’ll mutter, as you clamber out of your, I don’t know, 2012 Ford Fusion, with a Phish decal.
"Yeah, it’s cool, I’ll just lay here—lie here?" I’ll mutter, as you clamber out of your, I don’t know, 2012 Ford Fusion, with a Phish decal.
It doesn’t get more local than illegal reptiles for sale in your neighborhood, now does it? At least you know that they’re telling you the truth.
Any establishment that denies me entry because I have twenty-seven thousand honeybees swarming on his face has no regard for personal freedom.
In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn’t have loudly invited every member of staff to come watch me “roast this bird” at tic-tac-toe.
For example, our description page should have read, “Lull yourself to sleep to the haunting cry of lions echoing across the lake.”
Don't forget it's scorching outside—do you really want to inconvenience yourself with a hot face? That's a cruelty no meat should suffer.
What's so bad about herd life? We share the same habits (grass), passions (grass), and politics (reduce your carbon pawprint...and grass).
The horse is grocery shopping. Is the horse supposed to pull the grocery cart? No. The horse has to push the grocery cart just like everybody else.
I plan to hit the ground running, and then run some more, and then more, then hit a wall, and then puke on your open laptop.
Please stop graffitiing the Batmobile with hurtful slogans like “The Caped Contager” and “The Dark Blight.”
The mortician had examined Mr. Bear’s three major organs: the soft and cuddly organ, the unconditional love organ, and of course, the colon.
A love letter, never sent / Pocket Bible (illustrated) / Hard candies, all unwrapped / Sack of flour dressed like a baby, for practice