You’re Invited to Your Kid’s Worst Friend’s Birthday at the Sketchiest Place in Town
It's time again to celebrate our beloved little Scarface-quoting third-grader. He's the reason your kid knows what ketamine is.
It's time again to celebrate our beloved little Scarface-quoting third-grader. He's the reason your kid knows what ketamine is.
Normal: Your toddler plays happily with the other children. Culty: Your toddler seems to be learning Latin.
My day looks just like any other grown 40-year-old singular man. I wake up at 5:00 AM sharp and eat my coffee and eggs just like all of you.
Visitors can tell which piece of furniture is your favorite just by looking at what has the most stains.
CAUTION: I’ve killed before and I’ll kill again. You’re probably thinking: “Why would a soft, soft teddy bear kill a baby?"
“Christopher Columbus” sees players arriving at someone else's pool, murdering those swimmers, and then claiming that the pool now belongs to them.
I know your coach said it doesn’t matter if you win or lose. Your coach has obviously never been up to his asshole in debt for betting on collegiate air hockey.
Mother say I need to stop moping around cave and get outside. So come up with a plan.
It is May 10, 2008. I am nine years old. I purchase the book Frindle from Hastings Entertainment Store. My mind grows fat off its teachings.
You'd never know that it is an alive organism, save for the occasional dampness and an appropriate amount of mold that forms on the sleeves.
Because the romance author who wrote your story didn’t quite know how to end their book.
After running out of per diem, your child will unwisely accept financial help from their Russian pen pal.