Satire | Page 14 | Points in Case

Tag: Satire

It’s not your typical low-grade fever or boo-boo that goes away after your mom kisses it.

You are fairly confident you read one. Your eyes scanned the letters, making them into words, and scanned the words, making them into sentences.

Mild Bill preferred to spend his nights playing Scrabble, drinking probiotic soda, and enjoying a light Caesar salad if he really felt frisky.

Please try the ahi tuna croquette puffs—eat it off a toothpick next to that pool, just full of wet wet water.

Uncle Andy contained multitudes. At his worst, he was a truly hateful, combative, and cruel man. At his best, however, he was also really annoying.

Your vibe was soooo post-op lobotomy patient. Like, instead of being human, you were just impersonating one, you know?

Get that stethoscope out of your ears so you can hear me loud and clear when I tell you to Back The Hell Off.

Money? Money? Money? Excuse me. Money? Money? Money? You. Give. Now. Money. Me.

But let me be clear: your hesitation to place a single mark on any of my acid-free, silk-finish pages is one hundred percent correct.

I don’t expect to meet anyone by joining your Club, but I wouldn’t be upset if someone asked about me. Has anyone asked about me yet?

Our competitors have all sucked up extremely hard to get here, but only one unctuous little twerp will advance to the county-level semifinal.

But the more upsetting headlines I skim, the more likely it seems the dream of enjoying a career-best performance by Hugh Laurie is out of reach.