I once
shot an elephant in my pajamas. Unlike Groucho Marx, though, I know *exactly* what he was doing in my
pajamas. However, under the terms of the plea bargain, the circus doesn’t want
me talking about it.
~~~~~
I’m
thinking that a more accurate Gatorade commercial would be some random guy in
bed nursing a MASSIVE hangover and trying to drink it without having to sit up
all the way.
~~~~~
As we
gradually come to the end of President Obama’s final term, I often find myself
wondering: Did he ever secretly reenact the scene from The Incredibles where
Frozone was trying to find his Super Suit?
~~~~~
Note to
self: The best part of waking up is Folger’s in your COFFEE cup.
~~~~~
Here’s
an idea: an audiobook that’s eight solid hours of breathing and page-turning,
with a surprised, “Oh, you meant out LOUD?” right at the end.
~~~~~
To the
guy in the wheelchair who stole my camouflage jacket:
You can
hide, but you can’t run.
~~~~~
It’s
said that you can’t tame a wild rose. And even if you could, probably the only
trick you could teach it would be “stay.”
~~~~~
I
wonder if Abe Vigoda ever fully appreciated the fact that McDonald’s named a
sandwich after him
~~~~~
I have
a Polish friend who’s a roadie for a band.
I have
a Czech one too.
A Czech
one too.
A Czech
one too.
~~~~~
I’m
desperately trying to figure out why Jedis just don’t use The Force to push the
button and turn off their opponents’ lightsabers.
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