mendacious, malodorous moron. He really smells minging, and that’s no word of a lie!!
Who died and …?
Did anyone score points for it in the Celebrity Death pool?
When in Rome…
find some sexy centurion and jump his bones.
Fools rush in where …
…the store advertises half off rather then the one that promises a 50 percent discount.
A horse is a horse…
…before it’s a corpse. Unless, of course, that horse is Norse…you’d call him Pferd instead.
Winning isn’t everything…
…is the Pittsburgh Penguins’ new team motto.
There’s a lady who’s sure…
no one was watching until she heard a little boy yell across the crowded quiet church, “HEY DADDY, THAT LADY OVER THERE IS PICKING HER NOSE.”
Now that’s a horse of…
wood, but I still think we should bring it within the walls of our great city of Troy.
Meatwad make the money, see. Meatwad…
…Please deposit 25 cents for the next three minutes…click
Don’t cry over …
missed posts - if you get your keyboard wet you might have to buy a new one. [I know this from experience!]
Look before you …
…drink that, you never know if some uncaring coworker bought it four months ago and left it in the fridge forgotten because they just got a raise and can afford to eat out every day while the worthless peons like yourself swelter in the hot lunchroom eating moldy bread and week-old water, dreams of deli meats and cappucchinos floating around in your worthless brains if indeed you have even that much imagination left over after your slave-driver boss works you to death and beyond, beating out every semblance of individuality until he’s lording over an army of automatons ready to do his every wish just because they can’t think for themselves, a simpering legion of imps carrying out menial tasks that an untrained chimp could do with ease: fetching this, typing that and passing out that new “lunch tax” memo, his latest attempt to crush your soul, to suck the last marrow out of your bones, brittle from the lack of calcium that you tried to make up for by drinking that milk. Eh, you only live once. Go ahead and chug it.
I love rock and roll…
…but I think it’s time we spent some time apart. I mean really, it was good in the beginning. I was young, you were experienced. You taught me so much about who I am and you were there for me during some difficult times. But we’ve grown apart. You’re looking for someone younger who doesn’t have firm opinions of what sucks and what does not. I thought you had art. But I’ve seen that you hide an icy soul behind your sweaty, lusty facade of gonja smoke and long hair.
Had I known your friends in Blink 182 would be the end of meaningful radio, I might never have let myself get involved with you like I did. As it is, all I have left are some pictures of me and you from some outdoor festivals and a couple of ratty Ben Folds Five t-shirts. I’m moving on, Rock and Roll…I’ve got a date with Adult Contemporary on Friday. Progressive Rock is coming along too. Yeah, I know Adult Contemporary is a little pretentious and high maintenance, but dammit, I can’t stand the lack of substance from our hollow aquaitance. Goodbye, Rock and Roll. I’ll never forget you.
You can’t always get what you wanna. But if you try sometimes, you just might find…
…those damn socks that always manage to escape from the dryer even though you KNOW you matched them before washing them and putting them IN the damn dryer.
May the wind be always at your back…
May the wind be always at your back…rather than in your pants.
It was a dark and stormy night…
…the fireplace was glowing…The heat was on.
I thought, ‘yes, now is the time.’ So I got on my knee and I popped the question…
“Mary, would you, um, ah, would you… not put any more wood on the fire. I mean I’m burning up. Can’t you feel it?” (sheesh)
If you’ve got 'em…
hand 'em in - the army has been tearing Iraq apart looking for those WMD … and they’ve been there in your basement all that time?
Don’t fix what’s…
broken, because fixing means work, and work sucks.
Spare the rod and…
…use Edgar Guest for your “Bad But Popular American Poetry Of The 20th Century” lecture.
Only the strong…
can sit through a speech of Dubya’s without feeling queasy.
Too many cooks …
…are giving me looks; they think that I took their flounders and snooks. If only they’d take a glance in their books, they’d find some meals that ain’t caught on hooks. :rolleyes:
I don’t know but I’ve been told…