Is it because life isn’t fare?
*I’m allowed to crack this joke because my Dad was a bus driver. And because that bus driver I bumped into at Checkers is a real %*&$.
And if you don’t like this joke, it’s just because you’re an opponent of farced busing.
A friend of mine bought a generic painting at a thrift store, but she “decided it needed something” before she hung it up in her house.
That’s flippin’ awesome.
I demanded she make a comparable piece for me one day.
Of all the DC Comics heroes, I think Swamp Thing would be the most fun to party with.
He just seems like a fungi.
Tip of the hat to the nonexistent pretty girls!!
Welcome to Facebook, which you just joined an hour ago!! And good luck at the new job, which … you apparently just started and hour ago … at MacDonald’s.
MacDonlad’s? That’s an interesting choice. Usually you ladies are all veterinarians and personal trainers and scuba instructors and such. Maybe you failed to prepare adequately in your fake school to prepare for your first choice of a fake job. Good luck with that.
I feel lucky, by the way, to be among the first six friends that you sought out on social media. It’s a select group — just me and five other unmarried men whose immutably credulous and feckless expressions are apparent even in their profile pictures.
Do *I* have that expression? (Probably.)
Enameled gadfly? Acrylic stinkbug?
What am I, an entomologist? You people tell ME what it is.
[Update : Blog Correspondent Pete Harrison just informed that this is Atteva aurea, or the Ailanthus Webworm Moth. No … I have no idea how he knows these things either.]
That awkward, recurring moment when people write “follow the money” in online political discussions, but I keep reading “follow the monkey” because I’m old and easily confused and I need new reading glasses.
I WANT it to be “follow the monkey.” That suggests a less depressing outcome than most political discussions.
We should have a National Donald J. Trump Day, in which we all lie, contradict ourselves, falsely accuse others, insult one another and ramble incoherently. We could do all of the above on Twitter, complete with the expected errors in spelling and grammar.
If anyone calls us on our bullshit, tradition wold require us to blame an educated black guy.
AND MEXICO WOULD PAY FOR IT.
Nothing can possibly go wrong.
Who came up with this invention? It’s probably equivalent to splitting the atom — complete with the potentially disastrous consequences.
How much do you want to bet that these will cause drama for me and those around me?
“Just look at the flowers.”
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 