Some of the Ways I Have Prevented George R.R. Martin From Finishing “The Winds of Winter”
One time I told him I heard a rumor that there was a dead body in the woods and invited him on a hike to see if it was true.
One time I told him I heard a rumor that there was a dead body in the woods and invited him on a hike to see if it was true.
They just don’t seem to realize that, in a prank-war, these things just happen. It's no one’s fault, and nothing anyone should get in trouble for.
Is there any way to make the heartburn shoot actual flames out of our mouths? That would be a nice party trick.
You checked the closet and it wasn’t a monster, it was nine blue goblins. They play poker every Thursday night and they apologized for the noise.
You can Airbnb your crib to other infants and sleep in your playpen. Make sure to charge them for the blanket, the mobile, and the cleaning fee.
All I need is for Bezos to read my kids a bedtime story and I will be up for the 2018 award for disconnected dad of the year.
Maybe, if you roll up your in-flight magazine and hit him really hard on the nose with your free hand--- Oh, Saint Jude! He’s unhinged his jaw now…
Colorblock Windbreaker: You wear this athletic fit ironically because you are actually a struggling improv performer.
You’re probably taking a hard look at yourself, reeling with guilt at the thought of all the poor, innocent, mother mosquitos you’ve smooshed.
When you die, it won’t likely be a bunch of vultures or a serial killer who see you last. It will be me, your friendly neighborhood mortician.
Wondered what it would be like to get directions from that one friend who’s confident they know where you’re going but “could be a few blocks off”?
Feel free to thumb through the 3,500-page book, "Extreme Survival Scenarios," which is now required reading. Feel free to hang out by the buffet.