I had a massive bowel movement the other day that left me exhausted. Guess you could say that shit really took it out of me.
I just accidentally swallowed some Scrabble tiles. My next poop could spell disaster.
A friend claimed he had not had a bowel movement in nearly three weeks. I’m pretty sure he was full of shit.
I just had like a gallon of alphabet soup and I’m waiting for my vowel movement.
Waiting long? Maybe you’re consonantipated.
Hm. At this point, it seems as if we’re all just phoneme it in.
Keep your fricative opinions to yourself, bub.
Hey, I glottal ot of them!
Well, if they’re glottal, stop 'em!
I’d rather have a glottal in front of me than… oh, never mind.
Whew! I’m glottis is over.
I was hit on by a linguist the other day. She asked me to conjugate, but I had to decline.
Sounds like a true cunning linguist.
A college linguistics club is getting drunk in a bar. You know they’ll be getting into semantics tonight.
I hope they look after their genitives!
I remember well the time I was punished by my linguistics professor. She gave me a harsh sentence.
In the early days of voice recognition, as an engineer was getting acutely frustrated with one module, the module out-putted “Beep, a tent. It’s hard to wreck a nice beach”.
A sandbar formed off a popular beach. It was referred to as a son of a beach.
A lifeguard at the beach here was unable to save a hippie the other day. He was just too far out.
I think the hippie was just checking out the high tide.