Letter to the Elusive BrätBus™: Why Do You Hate Our Wonderful Midwestern City?
You’re telling us that our beloved home--a place where many Hagen-Hogan BrätBoy Brats™ have been happily consumed--isn’t worth your time?
You’re telling us that our beloved home--a place where many Hagen-Hogan BrätBoy Brats™ have been happily consumed--isn’t worth your time?
When you cupped me in your hands and held me up to the light, I thought, “Okay, geologist!” I was excited to go home with you.
Just goes to show you what 520 calories and 24 grams of protein per sandwich can do for your kids.
Nothing good will come from yelling about whether there’s a glue spot on the plastic pear that indicates where a neighboring bunch of muscats should be adhered.
Looking back, I can see it was I, not yo momma, who is so dumb that I stood on a chair to raise my IQ.
Would you like your receipt via text, email, or Gordian Knot full of surveys and "Extrabucks" offers you can’t throw away fast enough?
If there was ever a year for you to slip through and get this relatively prestigious residency, it would have been this one.
We wanted to let you know how deeply we were moved by your generous mandatory contribution. 30% of your base income… It was just what we wanted!
Thanks to you and the Magical Musical Mat™, every minute of my life is now a beeping, squawking, nonstop honking nightmare.
It is with great regret that we inform you that you are by far the worst applicant our university has ever seen.
They say time heals all wounds, but that’s only for people who aren’t known by a nickname based on their biggest insecurity.
I mean, your boyfriend just seems like one of those guys who would step out on you, know what I mean?