Some bastard that doesn't appreciate their yummy goodness always picks my coffee cream out at random, then goes yuck, and spits it out...
And leaves it half chewed on a plate at the side of the room, to taunt me, while I sit, furiously chewing on a foul turkish delight, and concocting images of murderous rage.
Unless you have one of those maniacal dictator smiles, then they just avoid you at work. Unless they know how much plutonium you have, then they do that nervous smile thing.
I'm concerned with the Peak Oil situation, so I just invested in more plutonium. There may not be any oil, but if anything is to be destroyed I want to be in on it.
The moral of the story is that you have to look on the bright side of life. But only when you've got the plutonium. Otherwise fill your basement with canned goods.
You seem very happy about that.
I'm positively glowing. Or maybe negatively glowing. Either way, when you turn the lights out you can see my insides. It's very cool.
And priests sneak in through the back door, drink your scotch, smear themselves in mustard and wear your wife's underwear while jumping around singing "Locomotion".
My wife's been gossiping again. I mentioned it and she asked "If only women gossip, how do you and your friends keep track of "who's easy"? She was quite shocked when I told her about the database.
You do know what this means don't you? You know I think this is the first time anyone's let on since old George Putnam had a few too many and let slip some years ago.
Yes, well there's only so many times a man can put up with finding pubes on the soap.
My wife has been complaining about my communication skills, she insists that if I must reply with a grunt to at least develop a system to indicate a positive vs a negative grunt.
That would defeat the purpose of the grunt. It is the male equivalent of a female talking. When you say one thing, you mean something else, but only sometimes.
And one thing never means the same thing the next time you say it. And if ever you do say what you mean, you don't make any sense. Now they know how we feel.
She also feels eye contact is best established above shoulder-level.
If she doesn't like you doing that she shouldn't have introduced you to her niece.
To actually see our ancestors will inevitably disappoint us. The romantic notion of the bold brave pioneer will always outweigh the shattering downturn of reality.
Now I know how Ozzy Osbourne's grand children are going to feel when they're old enough to watch his show.
I just found out that gold is being mined from the New York City sewers.
With 20 million people living in the city, whenever someone showers or washes their hands with jewellery on, tiny flecks of gold flush down into the sewer.
Then using chemical detergents they can filter out the effluence and refine the raw gold used to make New York's finest jewellery.
Thanks. Now I'll taste that every time I lick my gold tooth.