If You’re Gonna Haunt My House, You’re Gonna Haunt by My Rules
And your little ghost friends? They can’t spend the night. All of you swirling around in a big circle above the roof.
And your little ghost friends? They can’t spend the night. All of you swirling around in a big circle above the roof.
We’ll enforce basic duel-to-death etiquette, which basically seems to mean making sure one party dies (Hamilton is available on Disney+, by the way).
I feel like such an idiot. How many times did I tell myself, “make sure you turn off the lights, lock the front door, and put out the grease fire."
I cannot help but feel like the law is on the side of the cold-blooded decapods of this world who travel willy-nilly from shell to shell.
In this instance, the coyote was blasted through said wall following a violent explosion of his own devising.
Ope, watch your head there. Cam likes to go in feet-first, but I prefer lying on my side and sliding in with my hands like a walrus.
Install a shower in there so he’s not hogging your family’s only bathroom while you sleep. His hair is always getting clogged in the drain.
How lucky are we to have a youngly Master of Business Administration as land-lord! Thou hast every right to levy rents from my labour.
- Several Loose Flashlights - One Omni-Seasonal Jack-O-Lantern
You ever pick up a felled tree in the woods? Of course you haven’t! That sucker probably weighs 500 pounds! That’s the stuff I’m made of, baby.
Now when you pop your bones from their sockets so you can scuttle across the floor like a spider, you will be met with clapping instead of screaming.
“Unless you’ve got millions in the bank, any form of routine maintenance is downright unaffordable.”