The Multi-Millionaire: They have it all. The husband, the mansion, the coke addiction. What could you, their friend in low places, get them?
Our eldest son, who fancies himself an art dealer of dick pics, has found his avocation stuffing pimentos into green olives. Someone's gotta do it.
Zoboomers love to slip in hip cool slang like “fire,” “drip,” and “lit” to help better blend themselves in with the younger generation.
Have you ever been out shopping and you try on a super-cute top and it gets stuck and you look like you’re wearing a nun costume?
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all conversations are not created equal; that some are boring as hell and a complete waste of time.
Don't go to church on Sunday? You might as well be drinking abortions out of a fancy wine glass made of Reagan’s bones.
Every snowstorm, I was out in my front yard. That is your duty as a child in America. These snowflakes need to buck up and make a fucking snowman.
Sip a Mai Tai every time you fantasize about escaping to a beach somewhere where the alt-right will never find you.
Section 3: Foreplay: All types of textual foreplay is permitted, such as feeling really guilty when asking for feedback on their TV pilot.
Yum, I hope that unfiltered tap water and internalized judgement from your mother tastes great!
This guy did not go to our high school. Who is this guy? Does anyone know who he is? He’s not someone’s spouse is he? Is he from our hometown though?
Stuck to your cubicle wall with a push-pin that matches the color of “your party”: You work in middle-management but your team likes you, you think.