My wife insists on buying our daughter the expensive, growth hormone free milk. So there goes any chance she’ll ever have of being an X-Men.
Me: Don’t fall in love with me doll face. I’m no good for you; I’m bad news.
Her: No problem. Here’s your change. Pull up to the next window.
The glasses you choose should say something about you. For instance, “I can’t see.”
I love books. You can put them on shelves, that conceal a fireman’s pole, that leads to a cave where you keep a fast car decorated with bats
Relax TV weatherman with your sciencey explanation of today’s fog. It’s a cloud on the ground, just say it. Help me not hate you.
Bugs Bunny taught me my choices aren’t limited to fight or flight, I can also pretend I’m a pretty lady.
I’m not a liar. I have an English degree; I’m an unreliable narrator.
At this late date, the only way I’m gonna be famous is if I save a baby from a fire. And the baby is filming the whole thing with his phone.