And that tail on Eeyore? Just tacky.
The other day I sat on a tack. It made my whole week.
Yesterday it rained cats and dogs. I stepped in a poodle.
I went to the zoo the other day and there was only one dog there. It was a shitzu.
Things were getting tense as I descended toward the mall’s food court. Fortunately I was trained in de-escalation.
I don’t mind buildings with no elevators, but what I hate are other peoples’ stairs when I complain.
How did she get up to the 50th floor without an elevator? Never mind that now, I’ll escalator.
I have an irrational fear of escalators. I always find myself taking steps to avoid them.
After the inspection, ascent building management notice that the up escalator needed repairs, but the down one was in descend condition.
I use only Maxwell House elevators (“good to the last drop”.
I like elevators, they’re so uplifting.
I don’t trust elevators. They’re always up to something.
That is bad on so many levels.
I used to live on level 7, but that’s another storey,
I have a novel way to write stories.
Puns about books are tearable.
My books are all on the floor. I can only blame my shelf.
Nobody here knows Dorothy Parker?
I like a Martini,
But two at the most.
Three, I’m under the table,
Four, I’m under the host.
One, two, three, floor. It’s just that easy.
You could gin up my support for martinis.
Olive one, too.