The galactic ambassadors brought invasive species with them.
Often there’s an I between me and success.
Often there’s a You between love and war.
Often there’s a “u” between America and Britain.
“Can you name the wind?” “How about ‘Fred’?”
War took him. Peace didn’t bring him back.
Her words cut the skeleton to the bone.
“Leggo my Ego” was a less popular campaign.
The dish. The spoon. A torrid love affair.
“Agree with me or die!” “No thank you.”
The demagogue wouldn’t be bad if I agreed.
The alien left Plato’s favorite cave to explore.
“The magic word’s ‘Isle-pay’.” “Wanna get dinner, isle-pay?”
“I once fell in love with a shrubbery.”
“My mother-in-law must be from an exoplanet then.”
“Our kids are definitely from somewhere beyond Pluto.”
“Yes. And my wife is literally from Venus.”
“No, really, my husband is literally from Mars.”
“Alien life forms found in your family, Sir.”
I forgot my Math homework. The trains crashed.