Passages from My Nine-Year-Old’s Journal That Prove He’s Possessed by Walt Whitman’s Ghost
O’ empty day in the bore of my classroom. Today Miss Woolley asked me to remove my hat, and I reminded her that I will wear it as I please.
O’ empty day in the bore of my classroom. Today Miss Woolley asked me to remove my hat, and I reminded her that I will wear it as I please.
I’m going to take a beer. Man. Beeeeautiful. Nothing like a nice day– Flip that. That’s done. It’s burnt.
Hereclitus’ principle of unity in opposites can best be illustrated by the Toyota Sienna.
I don’t know if they teach conflict resolution in that school of yours these days, but I sure could use some relationship advice.
If you are offered a chance to suckle at the teat of the eldest Keebler elf, I pray you heed my warning.
The clients’ voicemails were mistakenly deleted, as the functions of the different button thingies had been forgotten.
I love how the natural light comes through the house. It gives whoever wants to break in a little sneak peek of what they’re missing you know?
A Ponzian Slip: This is when you misspeak because you are thinking more about swindling the person than the substance of the conversation.
Why do I have a safety deposit box at Epcot full of cash, character location maps, and over one hundred trading pins?
I clench my butt cheeks tightly and strut past an elderly couple, pulling on the front of a cart, sweeping it alongside my body.
I knew the moment Brad's Gucci loafer crossed the threshold of the antique store, that my time had run out.
Not only are my kitchen cabinets sticky and brown, but they contain condos for giant cockroaches who never pay HOA dues.