Life -- for some it’s a swing and a miss, others foul off a few pitches, and a handful make solid contact again and again. Do they fall in for hits or outs? Eventually, that’s the final question. Same for this strained metaphor.
Love or porn? Geez. I’m thinking, I’m thinking. Damn, there are really good arguments for both.
If elephants ever thought about it much they’d just show up and trample all our cities.
First time I’ve ever seen this. Big boy, really big, maybe even 500-lbs. big? Gets in gym Jacuzzi, and raises the water level over the concrete edges. Big Jacuzzi. But not big enough to reckon with the biggest of the big boys.
I suggest smacking your lips while eating as the world’s worst sound. Nominations are still open, however, for a brief time.
“Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves” is the best pop song ever about underage prostitution.
Winnie the Pooh loves hiney. (The power of a single altered letter.)
Jesus, they could slip anything into yogurt.
Dying alone is preferable. Unless slumping forward into a plate of biscuits and gravy at a crowded Bob Evans in Nashville hits you as the better way to go? And, yes, of course, I’ve seen that happen, I’m from the south. One in three below the Mason-Dixon line go out this way.
Just before they say “I do,” I burst into a stranger’s wedding, wearing broken handcuffs and a chicken mask. I scream, “Don’t let her do this to another innocent man!” then run out the door yelling, “Freedom, freedom at long last!” And in this way, I win another wedding.
I camp in a bouncy tent. If I’m going to get eaten by a wild animal, we’re at least going to have some fun with it.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Thickmas.
Every time I watch soccer, I hate it more.
Zip-lining, except it’s me, sitting on my couch, watching movies, not zip-lining.
She said she still considered herself an athlete, and I said, “Shot putter?” And now we don’t talk.