Guestbook Entries from a Hotel That Definitely Has a Man in the Walls
Nice place. Lovely sheets. Good shampoo. Someone kissed me in the middle of the night.
Nice place. Lovely sheets. Good shampoo. Someone kissed me in the middle of the night.
We want to extend our deepest gratitude to you for believing in our potato chips. Those other people who didn’t buy our chips can go right to hell.
'Tis a noble tradition, even though I could just as easily say all this to that carrier pigeon X, formerly known as Twitter.
Do not stay on the toilet for extended periods. By minute three or four you’re risking a nasty bite.
While on the outside I look like I spent a past life as a lava lamp, my insides are as square as an actuary’s lunch box.
This newsletter is put together by VOLUNTEERS in Shelly's basement sewing room and it's hard for us to keep up with ALL OF YOUR MANY, MANY QUESTIONS!
That was dumb. You broke your toe on a cheap desk. Inhale. Clear your mind of that very stupid thing you did. Exhale. Stupid.
In the beginning, my friends didn’t want to come over and play, saying that my new games were “weird” and “hard to play” and “haunting.”
Like Thanksgiving or Easter, Grublin's Day was on a different day every year, sometimes even in a different month or year.
We applaud you for giving us something to do with our hands other than ball them up or masturbate.
All politicians want to have sex with Paul Rudd.
Neither of us like wasabi, but these are wasabi with cinnamon and pineapple, so I have a feeling the other two flavors will overpower the wasabi.