I’ve decided that the tallest cowboy should get to ride a giraffe. Or my name’s not Giraffe Decider.
“People nod way too much in fiction books. It’s unnatural,” said Ricky. Beth nodded, tears running down her face.
An undertaker is scary. But an overgiver would be terrifying too. STOP GIVING ME POTATOES I’VE HAD ENOUGH!
I overheard a man get offended when his friend called a cruise ship a boat. He declared it was an insult and and understatement, like when somebody calls a diamond a rock. Seems like a rich people problem. The rest of us don’t give a shit. Apparently we have more to worry about then what things are called. You’d never here a poor person say, “Hey, that’s not a wiggle waggle. That’s a RAMEN noodle, have some respect.”
Raisins evolved from grapes.
I don’t buy organic pianos. Those are sad pianos that were raised in church.
Is it racist if I still can’t tell Kenan and Kel apart?
It’s throw Canadian quarters into water fountains and yell “communism!” day.
This salad dressing tastes like it has hipster tears in it, probably because it thinks it’s French.
I learned how to drive using a riding lawn mower. I learned that turtles are lazy, you should never wave at squirrels, and never drive in the street.