My Non-Survival Plan for the Zombie Apocalypse
I will complain about my shin splints roughly four times a day. I know my chiropractor will already be a zombie by that point (R.I.P. Dr. Gordon).
I will complain about my shin splints roughly four times a day. I know my chiropractor will already be a zombie by that point (R.I.P. Dr. Gordon).
Blonde Pinocchio was a blatantly transparent attempt for Geppetto to cash in on the notoriety of his most famous creation.
I resolve to say "No" more often to things like babysitting around the clock for my friends.
I will run a mile every morning… but if my knee is acting up, I will walk instead… unless it’s raining, of course… or even drizzling...
Use of this park is at your own risk. Such risk will not be assessed, even though this neighborhood has the highest population of actuaries in the city.
(Hark! The Herald Angels Sing) Hush! Santa will hear our plotting, He’s gone mad, brain is rotting. We should organize a coup, Before he makes new boots from you.
Strategic Rips and Tears in the Packaging: Claim that the present must have gotten damaged in transit due to it being shipped from a far-away exotic place, like Hartford.
This is where she bumps into rakishly handsome high school sweetheart Rattlesnake, whose cannabis farm has fallen on hard times.
A hammock. Hanna, you know a hammock is a death trap because you laughed hysterically when I fell out of one in 7th grade at Trevor’s birthday party.
4. Classic from the literary canon that you just happened to casually reread recently. Because, everyone knows, you were an English major.
Make entering your Airbnb a confrontational experience. Rude, even.
If you hear Wham!’s “Last Christmas” at Trader Joe’s, stop shopping immediately and guzzle a 32 oz. carton of eggnog. Post #Whamanogageddon!