Why the hell would I use turn signals? I know where we’re going.
Sorry I yelled “GET A ROOM!” at your grandson’s wrestling tournament.
Before you bludgeon to death that drifter who broke into your apartment and passed out on your futon, ask yourself: when did I buy a futon?
She’s a cosmetologist, bro. Astronaut stuff.
You don’t know awkward and uneasy until you’ve seen the way I hold a cat.