A Fancy Cat Writes to His Least Favorite Cat Sitter
Your caterwauling rendition of “Another One Bites the Dust” did not qualify as entertainment. The accompanying “moonwalk” was spectacularly dreadful.
Your caterwauling rendition of “Another One Bites the Dust” did not qualify as entertainment. The accompanying “moonwalk” was spectacularly dreadful.
Talk Like Lions and Sacrifice Like Lambs. Things get a little wild in Round Here Land’s animatronic-powered “Frontier Country”!
Have fun cooking on your one-burner stove. I’m spit-roasting an entire side of beef that’s been marinating for 3 weeks in Cab Sav.
The producers were convinced that my boyfriend Todd was the actual killer. Have you seen Todd? My little baby cousin is stronger than him.
Andrew has a new response for everything (“Lmaoooooo Yes”). Ralph comes to back to the group text (“Sup It’s Been Awhile”).
I don’t know if you’re feeling it watching from up there in the studio but down here on the ice, you can just feel the absence of emotion and energy.
I’m not quite sure how to begin but I know too well how it ends: with tendrily monsters eating your loved ones.
Hark, I get it. Carpophorus is reinventing the very genre of public violence. I just don’t have time to get into the King of Beasts right now, okay?
When we look at Campbell's emotionally advanced AI, all we see is a faulty machine with a short attention span that never brings its knights out.
You’re the best goddamned spy we’ve got in the service, but the day you TRULY become a spy is the day you get my stepson to show me some respect.
Listen up, shitsticks: all you open-mic wannabes better take notes from the best comedian Channelside Elementary School has to offer.
Do you think I’m a nice person? Do you think I’m full of rage? Crap, I’m turning my apology into a plea for validation. I hate when I do that.