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We’ll start with an easy one here. Grandma probably didn’t understand the rules and went ahead and put her name on the package.
Marcus makes you miserable playing ultimate frisbee inside and then using his Frisbee as a plate, but are you willing to give up the incredible gifts.
Believers, tonight I bring you good news of unlimited talk and text to the Creator of the universe, powered by America’s best 5G network.
Did signal his phone screen had fallen and cracked And thus with a shudder, he swallowed his pride And off to the Whovilleplex Mall did he ride
The Multi-Millionaire: They have it all. The husband, the mansion, the coke addiction. What could you, their friend in low places, get them?
Our eldest son, who fancies himself an art dealer of dick pics, has found his avocation stuffing pimentos into green olives. Someone's gotta do it.
In Who-ville, critical thinking is not valued as a trait. No, rumor and hearsay are given far more weight.
It pains me to think that the childhood I’ve carefully constructed for Trevin could come crashing down, all due to the ramifications of your bullying.
My mom mailed me back my matching pajama set with a note, “Don’t bother wearing our family Christmas pajamas unless you ask for something fun."
Unraveling the “why?” behind a Red Hot Chili Peppers (RHCP) fan’s devotion is critical towards correctly identifying their funk-rock condition.
The man who I had married, the man who I’d seen get into a shoving match with a JV baseball coach, had become something unrecognizable.
This thing we call "life" is really just a painfully drawn out, cosmic joke. And I can’t tell if that’s what’s causing the bulge around my waistline.