What She Really Wants This Ides of March
A quiet night in with 60 or more Roman Senators – Don't overthink it! If she's a down-to-earth type, this all she wants on March 15.
A quiet night in with 60 or more Roman Senators – Don't overthink it! If she's a down-to-earth type, this all she wants on March 15.
I founded the OLA (Ostracoderms Live Again), and we filed an injunction against placoderms for forcing their jaw hinge on us without our permission.
All I wanted to do is continue the progression of time the way it has been going for all of fucking history. But suddenly the pandemic's MY fault?
I hear my quest for vengeance described as “single-minded,” and I can’t help but resent that.
“Would you like some ice chips?” Chef Aut asks me. “Ice is for penguins,” I say. “And chips are for Brits.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond as that monster of a machine came back around, running over a cardboard standup of Neo from "The Matrix."
It had been about three weeks of increasingly nasty slip-ups but perhaps now the jig was finally up.
“This Isn’t Disney’s Magic Kingdom: Top 10 Do’s and Don’ts When Shipwrecked on the Island of a Vengeful Sorcerer”
There have been rumblings around the office about how our company will manage to pull off our famous “zeros for eyes” design in the year 2010.
You shall meet Ra, the Supreme God of the Sun and Creator of All Tan Lines. He will teach thee how to avoid straining thy intervertebral joints.
We cannot hallow—this ground, except of course by playing a consciousness-altering stream of Christmas songs in November and December without pause.
“We must hide his nonconformity,” said Donner as he rubbed his son’s nose with mud. “Pa, I don’t want to!” “Just endure, Rudolph.”