The thing all dystopian movies and books were never able to predict was the sudden rebellion of the National Park Social Media Managers.
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As some of you know, I’m in Florida for the week – playing for the first part and working for the second (sort of like a mullet, often referred to as, “party in the front, business in the back) and I got to thinking. It’s actually a good thing the zombie apocalypse starts in Florida, because then the zombies only have one way to go, and that’s straight up into trigger-happy redneck territory.
I give it two weeks before monster trucks and mullets save us all.
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February 10 should be National Fart Day.
Because it’s 2/10.
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I was recently informed that the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is actually targeted toward females.
Apparently it’s about clothes.
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Watching an entire episode of a TV show without looking at your phone now counts as reading a book.
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“You look like a million bucks” is a compliment here in the good ol’ USA. It didn’t, however, go over so well when I was living in England. My girlfriend asked me, “Does this dress make me look fat?”, and I responded with, “Babe, you look like a million pounds.”
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Look, I’m all for America welcoming poor and huddled masses yearning to breathe free. But why would we want *tired* people?
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It’s a little-known fact that Pythagoras had a brother named Viagoras. He, too, had a keen interest in right angles.
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I really like Brazilian food. You almost never find hair in it.
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I always knew I'd love being a father. I still relish my first bonding moment with my newborn son: Looking into his squinting eyes, seeing his tiny hand clasp around my index finger, and me having enough gas handy to make that little tug worthwhile.
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