My kids are of the age now where their magic tricks are all in three parts, and the middle part is always “Look away.”
As I get older, I can sense people dressing me with their eyes.
The older you get, the better you get (at lying to yourself).
What kind of world is it that shorts are not half the price of pants?
The Super Bowl has become so commercialized, its religious meaning is in danger of being lost completely.
My willingness to use words I don't know is truly plaintiff.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but I actually find words, tone of voice, and agitated looks really hurtful, too. Come to think of it, there are many ways to hurt me.
I don’t mean to brag, but I make everything look much harder than it is.
Law Professor: Do you know all the amendments?
Me: I plead the seventh.
Bartender: And are you over 21, young man?
Me: Pffffft, please, I was born over 21.
When I die I want to be buried at sea, because it seems like a big headache for everyone involved.
Am I okay? The short answer: no. The long answer: noooooooo.
I don't have much to complain about lately, but other than that things are going fine.
He wasn't afraid to ask the tough questions, but he sure was afraid of clowns.
Me doing yoga to relieve my chronic back pain and close-to-arthritic spine? Now that's a stretch!
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I wish I'd been alive when the wheel was invented, because it would've been awesome to see how stoked people were when they could finally use their cars.
My advice to anyone who needs to get their appendix removed is to hire a licensed editor.
My neighbors wanted their children to grow up bilingual so they alternated days in which they spoke English and French. This was not a problem until their son came to work with me and I couldn’t understand him half the time.
“Girls will be girls” I say as a drive over my neighbor’s curb and into her petunias for the second time this summer (: