“We will not stop at annihilating the beloved yellow dwelling of the All Star Special breakfast! The ICBMs of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard will wipe out all of America’s most sacred shrines, from Sheetz to Piggly Wiggly, Whataburger to Culver’s, and Shake Shack to Friendly’s! We will exterminate every Runza’s, Burgerville, In-N-Out and Wawa! Yes — Wawa!"
“I can’t imagine being married to another woman,” says Herbert. “Mostly because I can’t imagine another woman.”
Already, the tweets portending mass destruction and counter-tweets in support of the drone-strike are reverberating around the planet — but the shockwaves produced by these thought-leaders will look like nothing compared to the coming onslaught of cognoscenti packing bombshells of panic, anxiety and terror into 280 characters or less.
“My parents first noticed it when I had my school photo taken in kindergarten,” says Morris. “In the picture, my left eye was so crossed, it was practically under my nose. Also, I was lying in a corner staring vacantly into space.”
"Our ideal contestant is sort of a free-floating individual, someone who starts out with their head in the clouds, but then turns out to be decidedly down to earth."
Your Annual Christmas Newsletter From John Lewis
The same people who murdered Santa—global elitist bankers—are trying to kill me, your president. Some people think this is funny, but believe me, those people won’t be laughing in 2,000 years.
Experts in the field are concerned that the slow death of swinging ensembles harmonizing sh’ boom-booms may just be the harbinger of a brewing mass extinction, in which even those who warble soulfully over a I, IV, V chord progression, while rhyming “cry” with “die,” or “whiskey” with “miss me,” are gradually wiped off the face of the earth.
If I have to drag ass after one more stick, I swear, I’ll bite out your jugular.
“It’s probably for the best that you’re alone anyway, because I’m sure it makes you unhappy knowing that another person is suffering just by being with you.”