Here is the Ancient Ritual You Must Follow If You Wish to Quit the Football Team
A rapidly disintegrating map will be given to you as you step out of the self-reflection pod. It will lead you to the Sewer of Quitters.
A rapidly disintegrating map will be given to you as you step out of the self-reflection pod. It will lead you to the Sewer of Quitters.
Embassies, so complicated. So complex, I would say. Where do they go, who works there, what country are they technically in?
“My moon is in Sagittarius, so I shut down emotionally to cope with stress! I told you that on Christmas after I punched that mall Santa!”
Please, please, please, Movie Gods, if you're out there, please let me come to a theater near you. It's all I've wanted since I was a wee script.
For six years I've preached the dangers of sins of the flesh, during which time the devil lured me into oiled-up twinks, otters, and glitter-daddies.
Just in time for Christmas, download "A Pilgrim's Weighty Choice" from the App Store and find top-rated, authentic local nativities!
Does your "improv team" go by a cute-ish, possibly pun-based name like "Nutz and Boltz," "Bad Uncle Jimmy," or "The Proud Boys"?
"We want to create a more human Zeus. Relatable, powerful, and, most importantly, someone your worshippers can imagine sleeping with."
By setting such an unattainable standard for human behavior and existence, Chick-fil-A workers reveal just how miserably inferior the rest of us are.
I wonder if my indoor sunglasses and the giant jug of orange juice betray my hangover? The glare from Sister Beatrice indicates yes.
The comfortably structured contour-caressing nap of the Twerkini cover-up transforms motion into electrical energy, helping to charge cell phones.
Mike Pence, best vice president, maybe ever. Problem though: he's a nutcase. Totally unhinged. And I'm the only one preventing that freak from taking power.