"That horrible movie staring Mel Gibson from 1999?" "No you, idiot, as in he wants revenge!" "thats a silly request, but i only have the first season on dvd. I couldn't be bothered

large spurts of thick, spoiled milk splashed the faces of the on-lookers. The American Butcher then rammed the uddermobile from behind, driving his legendary Meat Mallet. His apron

Pickled moose fat as flavor erupted in my mouth, flooding my senses. I felt love, I felt joy, for the first time in my life I knew my place. Time seemed to flutter, as i chewed. Gi

Bradley was friends with Tom. Tom was friends with everyone. If you didn't think you had any friends, there was always Tom. Without Tom, many people would stop naming their kids To

"Gull dang it!" the old man shouted, "Rudy, if you don't get your mangy mutt butt off my Oriental carpet, I'm gonna drag you down to Chinatown and sell you to Mr. P F Chang!"

Joy, O spark of divinity,daughter of Elysium,with burning fervor, we enter your sanctuary! Your magic brings together what custom has divided & all shall become brothers & sisters!

The dream reflected various variations on a theme of repetition. Starting with an overt instance of being in itself what it purported to be, a dream. This was followed by the words

This picture demands that you become the anti-Amenhotep IV. I need you to sell it to the young man in the twenty third row with a shiner. I need you to sell it to Memphis.

are the worse. You try to do what you can but those bits of potato are never coming back to fill that chip. I know it, you know it, the potato knows it. It isn't a secret unless yo

The aftermath of el Nacho Grande & Other love stories of crabapples. Seventeenth Edition, FS####.

Copaseticism set in like a heavy fog over the city. The choir was unrelenguishly devoured by The White Wave. Those of a lighter shade of anguish filled the Hallmark with their unct

You ask me, "how do I like it". I would really like more. You frankly suck as a husband and a man. You lack excitement. That might be my fault after that 2nd trip to Maui but remem

I wouldn't eat the meat if I couldn't speak the speak. Honest position. But if you turn me on, expect annihilation. The lady at the DOLLAH HOLLAH flinched. "My grits bout to get ki

The predicament was predictable from a certain point of view. Priori sunt existenz vom am wunderkind, Der Snicker Snackle, harrumph Barrymore, I am going to party down. At the car

pe for the return of my olfactory senses, singed away by the necrotic plasma of (the late) Malakar the Unvanquishable's nostril prongs, at least not while I enjoy my hammock amidst

papi cam. Sure enough, The Donald went golfing bare-chested like his buddy. Trump's chest hair was as distinctive as his head hair. Trump teed his ball. Mueller knew his tetsuke. M

Clamato instead of hot water and now my bowels smell like a Long John Silver Seafood Shoppe. With my broken hand and a band of cats following me everywhere, I was ridiculed and

Her gams were prolonged, brawny buttresses of creamed butter and egg whites, which made me ravenously hungry. She hovered, soared, and shook me beyond any realistic anticipation!

It is not a secret that the President likes to eat a nut-covered vanilla caramel ice cream cone before retiring to the Lincoln Bedroom to watch reruns of The Apprentice.

As the WOrld MAcarooN Epidemic (WOMANE) approached pandemic proportions, Attorney General Willie Bubba, JR announced his Country's war against Italian cookies and their bakers and