* Aer Lingus sounds like a sex act performed with an imaginary partner.
* I like it when news reporters use the same adjective to describe Sarah Palin's speeches as they do to describe letters from Ted Kaczynski: "rambling."
* Gum-chewers bother the hell out of me. I guess I just don't get it.
* I like to talk a lot about how I don't care what people think, but, today, in the 90+ degree heat, I power-washed the porch and its furniture because someone said to me last week, "You actually sit on these?" and I cut the grass comb-over that was growing over the curb (it took me about an hour) that looked like Cousin It because I heard a snippet of conversation a neighbor was having with her husband that went "it used to look so meticulous" and I just assumed she was talking about our house. Apparently, the asshole who used to live here measured the hedge height with a yardstick. Didn't pay his mortgage, though.
* Why is it that, whenever you see running water, you have to pee, but you don't have to immediately pinch a loaf everytime you sit down to eat chocolate mousse?
* If I were a eunuch, I'd like to think I'd be the kind of eunuch who would draw something funny down there in Sharpie.
* Once, just once, I want to hear somebody who's just had some piece of furniture valued at $250,000 on "Antiques Roadshow" look at the appraiser and scream, "Haha! It's a fake, you fucking faggot!"
* Speaking of "Roadshow," do you believe that there was actually a time when people hand-wrote letters to each other?
* There are a lot of people in this world that I pass on the street and want to hit, but never is there such a high concentration of them than there is in New York City. I think it's all the 100-pound girls with frosted, stringy hair, oversized Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses and skinny jeans. Wha-POW!
* I can't believe that our brand new Ikea chair already has a stain on it. I've only masturbated in it once. Those Health teachers were right-- once is all it takes.
* Why did God make dogs possess the perfect body temperature for cold-weather cuddling, and give them such noxious assholes?
* If we had a big, big yard sale, would you come buy our shit?
* I know that, no matter how long I blog and no matter how big my readership gets, nobody will ever ask me to sign their tit.
* Have you ever wanted to accelerate and slam into the back of some random person's car that has the "What if the Hokey-Pokey Really IS What It's All About?" bumper-sticker?
* "The Danza Slap." You want to know what that is? Well, I'll tell you anyway. Come on, you know you're reading this blog for educational purposes. Apparently, while a girl's going down on you, you remove your penis, slap her in the face with it and go, "Mona!" in a deep, Danza-esque voice. If I were a girl and some guy did that to me while I was hobbing on his knob, I'd jam my fingernails into his scrote, tear those suckers out, shove them in his eye sockets and go, "What you talkin' bout, Willis?"
* Why was getting people together to watch slideshows of your vacation so gay, but posting pictures of your vacation on Facebook is so cool? At least, at the slideshow get-togethers, there was probably, like, chips and dip or whatever.
* Of course he didn't like green eggs and ham. They're fucking moldy. Jesus.
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