An Open Letter from a Disgruntled Vampire
There are no dry cleaners open all night in my area, and so I have hundreds of bloody, or just plain smelly, shirts I don't know what to do with.
There are no dry cleaners open all night in my area, and so I have hundreds of bloody, or just plain smelly, shirts I don't know what to do with.
We saved lives, and now it’s safe again to watch Snow White without worrying that the theater will be overrun by pointy-eared monsters and explode.
My mask's jerky hole? Yes, what’s that? It’s a hole for eating jerky. I don’t think that works. Please don’t. Oh, you’re showing me already.
I watch other people do it: strangers in masks screaming at non-maskers in public places.
Co-founders, Mom & Pop LLC: You nurtured MY LIFE from wobbly startup to self-sustaining enterprise, and you’ll agree that it has paid dividends.
I have to leave you, because an appreciable amount of a chemical compound that smells like feces has been detected in Venus’ upper atmosphere.
When I arrived on your doorstep (there was spring dew, I remember...), you were so excited. You opened me up right away, and we made magic together.
Before we go any further down this musty tunnel hunting for the Lost Amulet of Christopher Columbus, let's establish something: I'm Torch Guy.
The experience of being diagnosed with a serious condition that causes me to pass out a lot has turned me into a natural leader.
Any establishment that denies me entry because I have twenty-seven thousand honeybees swarming on his face has no regard for personal freedom.
I have been crewed to the Ba Ba Buoy, as fine a ship as exists. She is equipped with not only White Claw, but also Truly Hard Seltzer & Twisted Tea.
Let's not let a few small incidents of homicide overshadow the fact we recently installed washer-dryers in every single apartment.