Last night, I jumped in to halt a robbery and stopped 5 bullets. The police called it “getting shot.” Nevertheless, I did stop the bullets.
Just once, I’d like my to-do list to surprise me and say something like,”Today, fart in a Wal-Mart.”
I bought a set of forks. It was missing a fork. But it was still a set. How does that work?
I never wanted to be famous. I’m not famous, so success.
It’s “Farthouse Photography.” We are much more laid back than those other “Arthouse” guys.
If I’m asked, “Where would you like to be from?” I am going to say, “The Footloose town.” Not because I don’t like to dance, though. I like silo and granaries where dudes just say “to heck with it” and express their lives with their moves.
I thought I signed up for a 3K race, but I noticed all the other runners had pillowcases on their heads.
I could have sworn that guy told me to “Eat, drink, and be Mary.” Sorry for the misunderstanding.
I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t sign up to run in a bicycle race. Those guys are so sure of themselves.
Man, if they let me be in charge of making alphabet soup, I’d confuse all the kids by using really weird languages to base the noodles on.