I was just asking a personal question in public about an aberration in your appearance, the reason for which is glaringly obvious. What’s wrong with that? Also, a bald eagle with mutilated wings is still a bald eagle, gosh darn it. Respeck.
My pathetic attempt to learn the “Hail Mary” in French at the age of six led to my lifelong irritation with people who say “coo da gra.” It’s coup de grâce, people.
You’d be surprised at the black ops mission skills you can pick up in parochial institutions. Not to brag, but the things I can do with a pair of saddle shoes would make you say a prayer or two.
I was thirteen. You were drunk. Again. And yet, somehow, I was the black sheep of the family, even then.
My beloved Internet, where you can blow as hard as you want and never have to deal with everybody at the party awkwardly looking away from you.
You know the one I’m talking about.
Good thing we got that there electric company to explain them there technical details.
Well, just in case you change your mind, I’ll walk behind you for a while.
So you took a vacation, so what?
