A Strongly Worded Email to Amazon from Me, an Evil Genius Billionaire, Because the Shark Tank Filter They Sent Me Was Broken
What do you people want from me? To jump in my bald-eagle-shaped submarine and hand-deliver it to one of your warehouses?
What do you people want from me? To jump in my bald-eagle-shaped submarine and hand-deliver it to one of your warehouses?
I was so concerned to hear that, after entering your data, you were presented with a mangled 1988 Pontiac Fiero covered in blood, shit, and fire.
Maybe you could just be an accountant who wears a tiara and pets a teacup poodle whilst shoveling through student loan debt for the rest of her life.
So first you met a crustacean down at the beach and the two of you “really hit it off.” Let’s unpack that a bit.
It's pledge drive season here at NPR, and we're going to air some of the worst radio you’ve ever imagined until you pay us to stop.
I’m not sure what the deal is but I wanted to lodge a formal complaint. Do you have an email?
While I appreciate your dedication to authenticity, it’s making our battlefields look like the aftermath of Carrie’s prom.
First, it’s going to be a little bit longer than we anticipated, only about ten hours or so, but that includes some breaks!
“On fiscal new year’s eve, there’s no accounting for love.”
Have you been getting some emails that seem Phishy? This is PayPal, btw. The real PayPal. How can you know? You’ll get a gut feeling inside.
I honestly don’t know what I did before I conquered the Choff Quadrant and seized their Time Hex, sending them into a thousand years of chaotic darkness.
I respect the State of California’s 100-yard rule, and I value precision, which is why I bought one hundred yardsticks at Home Depot.