He looked over his left shoulder, panting. Three large men, all with pitchforks and overalls, chasing him at full speed. He knew he was dead. Heck, he knew he was dead even before he slept with largest man’s daughter. She was a lovely girl, who loved him for who he was. A piece of broccoli.
As I stood in line wondering where I would end up - the ‘good’ person vault or the ‘liars’ vault - I notice my brother helping direct the lines. Problem was, my brother died in ‘17. He was also a woodchuck.
Years later I received a package from him addressed to “Mr. A. Tindell”. I had married recently and took her name, as was customary, so I hadn’t been recognized as Mr. Tindell in a while. He had horrible handwriting.
Two fish were in their tank.
One manned the guns, the other drove.
Listening to the soft melody streaming from the BOSE radio that was sitting nicely on the kitchen table, he wept. Not because of the melody, but because he had just turned into a parrot.
If you’re looking for a situation that will depress both you and your wife, be the better seamstress.
Had one of the most intense and vivid dream in a while last night about a zombie apocalypse.
Big props to Adam and Bill for their controversial decision to follow a small child back to his house and into the attic. Never saw such a pimped out attic. It was full of assorted weaponry and had internet access.
While surfing the web we saw a disturbing death notice from a blogger.
RIP Lamar Odom.
Reason #41 being married is cool.
Walking into the bedroom to go to bed while your sleeping wife is laughing creepily saying “Just holding a placenta no big deal.”
It was all fun and games until her eyes rolled back into her head and a bloody placenta was visible in her hands.