Aeolus gives me a leather sack full of wind, and my guys open it because they think it’s a Market Basket bag full of Munchkins.
Time is not my friend. Bacteria from the splinter is multiplying, as I text. I can feel sepsis is setting in. I only have one, two days tops.
To be frank, this email arrives at a somewhat complicated time professionally. Perhaps you heard I was laid off not too long ago.
I’d appreciate it if you listened to my tips for spear-sharpening without sprinting to Human Resources.
Are you too pale? Yes, you are. We don’t even need to look at you; we can tell by your order history.
Back at the wizard’s tower, I’ve got a small team of young apprentices working on Gen-M and frankly, even we’re surprised by its capability.
Until you are told you otherwise, you are only allowed to use cannabis on weekends.
I’m not saying I’m better than Jesus. But I have 13 followers, and he only had 12.
I’m a triple threat: great at singing and horrible at counting.
I knew this failed sculpture—huge chip on his shoulder.
Lord Craig, why dost thou keep the queue stagnant? Is it not time to order the execution of the pilgrim who insists he has a reservation number?
Each employee should onboard a child for photos. Be discerning in your selection. Children who look both winsome and unmistakably aligned with our hunger initiative are ideal.
I never saw myself as a Hamptons person. I also never saw myself at the center of a scandal on a Bravo reality show, but here we are.
We noticed you’re attempting to exit the burning building. Nice choice! Unfortunately, emergency exits are not included in your current plan.
