My rage was only eclipsed by my three-year-old’s.
Genre: Comedy
She smiled at me …then I farted …loudly.
“I was in the bathroom for the evacuation.”
“Yes, he’s a jerk, but he’s my jerk”
“You. Drive. Me. Crazy. Isn’t real sign language.”
“We’re full, Sir.” “Does President Washington agree?” “Yes.”
“And that’s what I’d call a space potato.”
The cat’s paw sent her “angry, blowing-off-steam” email.
“Do your feet hurt— Owww owwww that hurts.”
The Ombudsman was drunk with wine and power.
The pineapple’s friends didn’t explain fashion to him.
“Intergalactic Space Monkeys from Mars!” “How’re they ‘intergalactic’?”
“I like the color.” “I like the price.”
“We’ve got a problem. The zombies can fly.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “What’s wrong?” “We’re out of sliced cheese!”
“I wish you didn’t smell so… so… interesting.”
Rover’s loyalty faltered when his master bought cats.
Just like that she turned into Crankasaurus Rex.
Heaps of cow poop outlined their “technology corridor.”
“Hey, Bahama Mama, wanna comma with me?” “Nope.”