Here’s wishing you a better Monday tomorrow than Principal Paxton.
Thanksgiving is over so technically it’s Christmas time; unless you happen to be Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, anything else where Jesus is just a guy and not a famous magician like we Christians believe.
This is more of an American problem than anything else. I doubt people in Somalia ever stomp each other to death over a battery operated stuffed animal.
Happy Thanksgiving! The only thing I’m thankful for is being exceptionally skilled at avoiding everyone I know from ever meeting each other. Even my mom and dad aren’t sure what the other looks like.
The day before Thanksgiving is the busiest of the year for bars. Odds are, at least one person is having sex with a stranger below another stranger.
Never judge a book by its cover; unless you don’t like the author, artwork, or its fat.
The dreams in which Principal Paxton is dying are the worst he’s ever had. Seriously. He’s 45 and is pretty sure that is a lump and not a third testicle growing in.
Because Tomas did Principal Paxton’s bidding, he will not let the public know about his Whooping Cough OR involvement with ISIS. Tomas’s involvement with ISIS is of course masturbating to beheading videos.
Having met several old people throughout my life I’d have to say Logan’s Run, although a little too ambitious, had the right idea.
I proposed to a girl once with a regular mob. They beat her to death with a stick. She said “no.”