If You Awful Bros Vote Democratic You Can Call Me “F*ggot” Once, No Strings Attached
There's no catch, except that I'm going to be making sure you check each and every one of those little "D" boxes on your ballot, you hetero freaks.
There's no catch, except that I'm going to be making sure you check each and every one of those little "D" boxes on your ballot, you hetero freaks.
Talk to the hand! The Zima is chilling on ice, Matchbox Twenty is in the CD player, and Trevor’s all sexy up in here with his puka shell necklace on.
Parents wouldn’t allow their kids over. They told me it was because their kids were allergic to cats, which I would have understood if we had a cat.
My advice is to ask her about her Fitbit as soon as possible, and then to make it a daily routine to inquire about her step count.
“I’d suggest you go read the piece to understand the way you’re being pretty irresponsible about Current Social Issue.” My boss was ashamed.
What’s that word? Apathy? I was apathy, bro. No, wait, empathy. I was empathy. My bad ha!
Find a project, be passionate about it, let it consume you until you have no time or energy for sex with your wife.
Don't dwell on your decision to crush that hitchhiker’s skull after listening to your partner suck lettuce from their molar for the last seven exits.
Explore and investigate the strange scraping sounds, trap doors in the floor, and that creepy voice that keeps whispering your name late at night.
Listen to the language, Jeff. “Designated area,” ”gentle correction.” Is this our backyard or is this Auschwitz?
These mysterious eviction notices may be related to ectoplasm, as both are occasionally left behind following a paranormal experience.
Finally, I'll have sated my 200-year-old appetite, fulfilled a centuries-old curse, and your family's financial situation will stabilize.