Open Letter to Zeus, King of the Gods and Lord of Storms
Is this yet another quarrel with your wife about your infidelity? Or an ass-backwards attempt to punish a blasphemous hero?
Is this yet another quarrel with your wife about your infidelity? Or an ass-backwards attempt to punish a blasphemous hero?
Sister Rosemary did nothing to deserve your wrath on JFK Boulevard this afternoon.
I suppose oysters are a noted aphrodisiac, but even those could never overpower the terrifying sight of your lover’s haircut.
I’ve made a few enemies along the way, as evidenced by the group chat telling me not to bring my “musty ass around game night anymore.”
The other day I caught up with a gaggle of humans bobbing around in a wave pool and the first thing I thought of was “flesh corks.”
International Wizarding Day of No Technology, a new celebration where Harry Potter fans don't use modern technology while we get a handle on this PR nightmare.
Whatever your personal weird fucking deal is, it won’t end well for you, so best not try to start it with us.
I’ll scream your name as many times as you’d like, or, as a new feature, I’ll rip my shirt off to reveal another shirt with a picture of you screaming.
The heat and the rain resulted in this season’s leaf color being a shade more subdued than in past years. But God, you’d think we killed Santa Claus.
Are you familiar with the phrase, “Living your best life?” Do you think that’s what is going on in here?
Clip a small dumbbell to each middle finger and do three sets of 50 reps while reaching up and out with your arms.
In Unit 2, we will delve into how I’m sick of your stupid shit too, and pretty please fuck off (and thank you).