Satire | Page 117 | Points in Case

Tag: Satire

Sweetest Day is better and not until October 16th, so I'm actually way early in already talking about it.

You can’t convict me for something a parallel universe version of myself did.

I don’t even have the mental energy to try to win her back because your little stunt has put me in such an awful financial situation.

I mean, where else can you find crumbly olive oil bath bombs to give you that “wet pasta” sheen?

The card was so lovely, but unfortunately, I can’t show you it because there was a fire at my desk.

Don't be fooled by the New York City postmark on this letter -- I'm a Wisconsin mink farmer, born and bred.

Here at Barb’s, we think big. We think brutal. We think volume-discounted wholesale gladiola bulbs.

This apartment is in Verto Heights, in the only Swap Zone of the city. About 11% of the Salt Lake City apartments are in this zone.

“Would you like some ice chips?” Chef Aut asks me. “Ice is for penguins,” I say. “And chips are for Brits.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond as that monster of a machine came back around, running over a cardboard standup of Neo from "The Matrix."

You might guess that my embryonic study schedule has engendered absconsion from social connections, but let me disabuse you of this insipid notion.

I will eat at a restaurant alone, as long as I can tell a friend to show up ten minutes after I’m seated and join me.