Text, “Do yr hmwrk, kthxbye.”
Although Mr. Plinkson was not impressed with the monkey’s new cellphone, he did find several of the ringtones more soothing than those typically chosen by his human coworkers.
I may indeed have a screw loose for using a small screwdriver to scratch my ear, but in my defense, wouldn’t this mean I’ve chosen the perfect tool?
Toshi loved the look of the tiny, shrunken male member as men emerged from cold swimming pools or the ocean, so she decided to start a dedicated porn site to see if she was alone in this fetish.
Schrodinger’s cat explained that catnip was all the proof one needed that a benevolent God existed, but Einstein felt that if God truly existed it would be hard to reconcile his benevolence with RuPaul’s Drag Race and if, upon death, Einstein found himself confronted by his maker as to why he didn’t believe the intrepid physicist would feel obligated to echo the words of the late Bertrand Russell – not enough evidence Lord, not enough evidence.
Walking the dog in your dream doesn’t get you out of doing it in the cold morning dawn.
Like every other teenage male since the dawn of time, Jake didn’t wash for days afterward as he tried to keep catching her scent.
The caffeine blasted through the top of her head for lack of a better outlet.
All the plants thought that, of the mushrooms, Button was the most fungi.
When she has finished, she promised me one wish, so up into the sky once more her net will go, and woosh - falling starlight in a jar.
To keep the afterlife from being overrun with Bobs, God extended the Bob hunting season by three days, which is a long time in heaven, especially if your name is Bob.
It’s internecine warfare day here in the ol’ US of A, the day the streets go quiet and we all watch the worst game of the season punctuated by the best ads the creatives at the ad companies can bring us.
“I do believe the new no smoking laws apply only to people,” my monkey told the bartender as he lit up a big cigar, “so why don’t you shuffle on down and get me another beer, and easy on the foam if you’re thinking tip.”
God is in escrow indefinitely, as the sellers make repairs; this explains a lot about Las Vegas.
I want to start the “coffee klatch” movement to counter the tea partiers; we would demonstrate by sitting around Starbucks talking about what we could do if we pooled our money and paid for services responsibly.
Chickens are especially adept at reciting epic poetry, but you’ll only hear it if you wait long enough without moving.
Sometimes no reaction is the best reaction.
Low blood sugar makes me grumpy.
After the freak accident, when his nose grew bulbous and red and his hair grew out curly and orange, he mistakenly blamed the long, flat orthotics for his inability to pick up women at dive bars.
I tried to teach my blind monkey how to use one of those white canes, thinking it’d help him get around the house, but he kept assuming it was a pool cue and that the two of us must be down at the tavern, which only made him start throwing his peanut shells everywhere.
If you think about it, drinking yesterday’s coffee doesn’t taste so bad if you don’t think about it.
My lunch during high school was always either a) a giant dill pickle and a pack of Dentyne gum or b) a king size Hershey’s dark chocolate bar and a pack of Dentyne gum.
As inspired by: 'mouse's The Power of the Pickle
Further, keeping a jar of kosher pickles in your fridge fixes any bacon that may be stored in the same space.
It seems to me that if you’ve got your all-powerful, old-testament God on your side, not only would the pickle still be kosher when it lays next to the sausage on a bun, but that the power of that pickle should make the whole lunch kosher rather than the other way ‘round.
Eventually his patience with the proofreading wore thin causing his scanning speed to increase until he was flying across the pages with the speed of a super robot, which of course he wasn’t.
Monologuers always managed to crack Muriel’s zen veneer.
When dealing with large sums of money it’s best not to get too attached.
Every morning Dan awoke amazed to still be alive.
In his early years, Clive was a master of movie theater dates, he was the one who came up with the “popcorn job,” but nowadays, he could barely pull off an “under the armrest offensive.”
Wesley’s dream was to one day send his little girl to public school, help her with her homework, get into a fight with her teacher when they, invariably, mark something wrong which is correct, (like the fact that the only thing Edison invented was the word “hello”) and tell them to read a book for irony’s sake.
By the age of 27, Charles had become quite adept at hiding his thumbsucking.
My kingdom for a bottle of scotch.
“Of course people slip on banana peels here in heaven,” God told Henry when he arrived, “it’s heaven, for crying out loud, we’ve got all the classic jokes.”
As inspired by: Keith's Henry Tells It Like It Is
Those eating-in-the-dark, blind-waiter theme restaurants sound like fun right up until something goes wrong with the Baked Alaska.
“Your hair smells like mashed potatoes,” Henry told his blind date, “so you’ve got that going for you.”
If I was tempted to second-guess my decision to step away from the Twitter, it was reconfirmed today when just for kicks I signed on to check what the twitiverse had to say about a small breaking news story and discovered that seventy-bajillion twits have decided to auto re-tweet the ABCNewsfeed.
The days keep tumbling by faster and faster; long gone are those languid years in which a week was an eternity.
I’m still trying to figure out how it works that I “donated” $20 to the school “rewards” fund for my daughter’s classroom, she “won” a $15 gift card to Target which she “sold” to me for cash, and now she wants me to double the deposit to her bank account, which is our standing deal regarding money she puts away in savings.
When the ghost of Pythagoras found out that I didn’t even have an abacus in the house, he became so upset that he refused to finish my son’s homework, even though we’d paid in advance.
I’m trying to teach my cat algebra, but she keeps getting hung up on the philosophical implications of x vs. y and we end up in a big fight.
Becky strode boldly into the corral, drew her simple “Lady” model TI-1200 with the more feminine-colored faceplate, and began a ruthless calculated assault upon Carl and his prized 45-button TI-59, a calculator that seemed to give Carl the upper hand right up until the moment the TI-59’s notoriously unreliable card reader jammed, leaving him in tears and mathematical shame.