You Shall Call Me “Dear Leader”
I shall return triumphant—and in my best Dockers and newest Crocs—exactly as the Great Destiny has deemed it to be.
I shall return triumphant—and in my best Dockers and newest Crocs—exactly as the Great Destiny has deemed it to be.
(March 5, 10 PM) Our analytics tell us you visited our website recently, but you still haven’t re-subscribed to COOKR. Why not?!
You name it, I’ve been through it. Casual flings. True love. Nits. Pink eye. And I’ve been a truthteller and a trendsetter through it all.
When I got a text from my wife that you looked at her beautiful food grinders and said, “Are these rocks in your mouth? Who put these in?” I got mad.
Now that I’m safely in hiding and have murdered more people, I wanted to thank you, the robot who is responsible for me still being on the streets.
I separate emotion from logic and wield my mighty Trident of Critical Thinking, which is a normal trident that I use to emphasize my pronouncements.
Battlefield Of Nothing Special: where our nation’s soldiers duked it out for no good reason, and left a legacy that no one can put their finger on.
Lois has been distant ever since we found out my sperm could kill her. She keeps making snide comments about how Batman wouldn't have this problem.
There were signs: Marco Rubio found Mitch had recently searched for “sexy outraged citizens tear male politician to shreds video.”
You will know it is your Town Hall when we remove your blindfold and handcuffs and you find yourself seated across from Anderson Cooper.
Mother slapped me. She was a former NYPD detective, eighty-eight years old and in the early stages of dementia.
At satisfying video school, I got to nerd out with fellow satisfying video geeks over the differences in crunch between Kinetic Sand and Madmattr.