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I just found Big Foot's photo album. It's filled with shadowy pictures of people peeing next to their cars on the roadside.
Just when when got used to being the 99% we're demoted down to 47%.
It's like we've forgotten the true meaning of a borrowed pagan nature ritual superimposed with religious icons and socioeconomic motives.
The Bauer boys were always close growing up. Until the fateful day when Eddie confessed to Jack about his love for khakis.
5,4,3,2,1! "Unleash the Robots!" Cries Seacrest, ripping off his mask to the horrified crowd.
I wish I could write a song about how rad my Friday night is, but I can't think of anything good that rhymes with "baked potato."
I'm sending my friend who just got a vasectomy a Father's Day card. Cut in half.
Choosy mothers choose Gin.
Did they run out of fonts in the 1970s for film titles?
Woke up driving to work again.
My yoga mat smells like the pizza it was delivered in last night.
Ladies, if you think your man has trouble sharing his feelings just find his Twitter account.
I can't share all of my secrets here. I have to save something for Terry Gross.
Shot a man with a squirt gun just to watch him dry.
Truly "Ultimate" Frisbee would involve a lot more flames.
Welcome to all my new followers! j/k I always wanted to say that. I don't have any new followers.
When judging the validity of political polls, keep in mind that 30% of Americans believe that dinosaurs and humans lived at the same time.
Checking Twitter is the new Opening the Refrigerator Door.
Barack deftly arcs a jump shot over Mitt's outstretched arms. "Oh yeah, can you do this?" Mitt says, taking the ball and buying an NBA team.