It has recently become apparent to me that you seem to be seriously interested in pursuing a career in tap dancing. I have come upon this idea after listening to you tapping your feet (with shoes) on your bare hardwood floor for hours on end.
This symphony of sounds (“thud” and “tap” being the sole two musicians in your foot orchestra) is something I don’t particularly appreciate at inappropriate times (anytime). I could probably hear a pin drop on your floor from my room in the basement of our house, let alone your feet, which oftentimes sound like a retarded wild horse on concrete.
So, I used to love seeing you when you came around, y’know? You were kinda cute and we talked and it was so fun to just flirt a little bit. I mean, so long as your boyfriend wasn’t around. Then you disappeared for a couple of weeks… I didn’t really notice, no… I see a lot of people every day so it’s not any offense to you, it just wasn’t a big loss in the grand scheme of things.
I enlisted for the action of a deep space exploration mission. I never expected that a deep space exploration mission would need latrine duty. I certainly never expected to be personally responsible for cleaning it. Maybe someday, with a bit of luck, I can become Sanitation Officer, promoted through my own merits. That is my true dream. Not cleaning up shit, but telling others to do it for me.
One thing’s for sure, in the meantime, this trip isn’t about to get more interesting, and my job couldn’t possibly get more difficult. Certainly it will not do so even if we pick up aliens whose specialty is pooping everywhere.
I’m an Ebayer. It’s like an addiction, and I get obsessed with it periodically. On one particular trip through the Tubes, I found this clothing store which proclaimed:
“We work tirelessly to bring you the latest in fashion.”
Which upon further examination, appears to be like a Dollar Crapticle saying they work tirelessly to bring you items of the highest quality.
Don’t you hate it when you’re crossing a street–a wide street–and there’s a lot of ped traffic, and halfway across, you recognize somebody going the other way, so you say hi, and they notice you, and start to talk to you, cause they have something they need to say, and this is a problem cause you can’t stop in the middle and you can’t go back because then you’d have to wait for the light to cycle and it’d be rude to the person you’re with and if you do that it’ll ultimately lead to them divorcing you and you’ll die alone and unloved
Until I met my sister’s boyfriend, I thought I knew comedy. I had somehow been under the false impression that, from time to infrequent time, I wrote a bit of it myself. Just a little, you know, on the side, nothing much. Certainly not an article every three days or so. (Where did I get a crazy idea like that?) That paradigm has all shifted, now that I’ve met Brad, and now I truly understand that I just simply am not funny. I also learned that this is objective, and even if readme disappears off the newspaper racks it is only because people secretly hate me.
Florida Governor Charlie “OMG I LOVE MCCAIN SO DREAMY” has feelings that are not platonic. His governorship has been short of remarkable and long of horrible, making him in no way noteworthy. So far, he has kept his promise of continuing Florida’s reputation for election irregularities, such as voting out of order and voting for John McCain.
Former Massachusetts Governor Mitt “The Also-Ran with a Plan” Romney completes our pantheon of exotic candidates by being Mormon. He’s also rich. Really, really rich. And look at that smile! Now we know how he managed to become governor of a liberal state and not be in the least bit liberal.
New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson is half-Mexican, half-American, and all spice. His jolly jowls jiggle with laughter as he explains his national security credentials. He is the big, huggable teddy bear of the Democratic Party, and the only teddy bear to run for the White House since Teddy Roosevelt. Full of experience, happiness, past ambassadorial appointments, and Ricky Martin-esque Latin charm, Bill Richardson would help Obama make the term “White House” a misnomer.
Delaware Sen. Joe Biden, commonly mistaken for Chris “Eyebrows” Dodd, is largely distinguished from Dodd by the fact that his eyebrows could not hold back the rising waters of the Mississippi. What this means is that Biden and Dodd are otherwise similar, in terms of being relatively unremarkable white guys. Biden supposedly has a lot of national security experience but who cares? Can he cook me up some habanero sauce?
So one day Ang Lee made an incredible art film called The Hulk. Like his previous films, it dealt with the love between two cowboys. Only these cowboys were a big green guy and the hot chick from Requiem for a Dream, which should totally have been titled Dirge for Some Sad People (spoilers). But instead of sheep, there was a mutant poodle thing. And some kind of starfish power that lets bullets ripple off your rippling chest. I think it was worth it though, just to see the Hulk smash a dog’s teeth into its brain simply by flexing them there. Besides that though, nothing happened for the first hour and a half. Then the Hulk defied physics a lot in the New Mexico desert (note: this is becoming a theme) but managed to kill no one.
The campaign sign industry has seen unprecedented growth over the past four months, say spokespeople of the “Big Three” campaign sign manufacturers.
“It’s just inexplicable,” said Derrick Wasser, a representative of Unlimited Yard Signs Ltd. “We’ve never seen anything like it in the three-year history of our business.
Scientists were shocked by the discovery of a perfectly preserved fossil of Deus Domesticus, commonly known as God. The find is expected to debunk many prevailing theories of science, evolution, ages of philosophical debate, and all remnants of logic.
Yes, I’m really going to start off an article with this sentence.
While walking down into a stadium on my walk to school that I don’t take through bleachers we don’t have, I was accosted by an ambulance on the field, out of which jumped a pair of police officers.
In recent days, Hillary Clinton has tried to get the nomination by appealing overtly to stupid voters. The two biggest examples of this are her handling of the Wright non-controversy, and her even more imaginary “Bittergate”. In both cases, someone on Obama’s side was accused of saying something “offensive”, usually to small-town, white Americans. The problem? Nearly everything those people said was true.
