Robin Hood: Get married in the woods and then crash a wealthier wedding’s reception for dinner. Archery optional, but encouraged.
I come to this park to walk my dog and to scold teenagers doing skateboard tricks on the walkway.
When We Get Married, I Want to Take Your Last Name, Along with Your First Name, Middle Name, Social Security Number, and Dental Impressions
My mom took my dad's name—and fingerprints, and mustache, and a high-resolution scan of his face with a state-of-the-art LIDAR device.
Now That I’ve Power Washed My Proposal to You, I Guess I Can’t Finish Power Washing the Rest of the Driveway
I’ll go put the power washer back in the garage. No more power washing today.
I Am Very Uncomfortable in the Leadership Role You’ve Assigned Me: The Guy at the Front of the Conga Line
Do I look like the life of the party? It took me a solid ninety minutes to work up the nerve to even step out onto the floor!
To pull off the ruse, hook your David’s Bridal dress on one of the striated rocks protruding from the cliffside. Make sure it really snags and tears.
Here they come—the very few remaining loved ones that will still attend this charade. There’s Grandpa Ernie, wearing his pajamas.
The U15-Humanoid Robot was granted independence by the Government or Earth, and the first thing it decided to do was find a human to marry.
We will have an authentic Old Crone sitting in the back of your wedding venue, looking out of place and muttering curses under her breath.
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.
Seeing you both now, I think we will sue. Sorry—I think we will. SUE, and Noah, you are clearly blessed.
The first thing I noticed was my temporary roommates smiled and clapped each time they saw the Grinch’s glorious glutes.