I am told that the salads I make tend to be a bit on the “dry” side.
It’s definitely something that needs addressing.
Meh thoughts
Browse quick-hit shower thoughts, deadpan one-liners, dark little observations, and questionable micro-rants from Chaotic Meh. They are short, searchable, and emotionally about as stable as a folding chair in a hurricane.
I am told that the salads I make tend to be a bit on the “dry” side.
It’s definitely something that needs addressing.
If Saddam Hussein ever kills me with mustard gas, I hope it’s the yellow French’s kind, and not that brown Dijon stuff. I always hated that foo-foo gourmet crap.
In other news, there’s a new dating app that caters to arsonists.
Every week you get new matches!
Pickup lines do NOT work. Last night, eight different women laughed at me and all I said
I asked my wife if I was the only one she’d been with.
She said yes — all the others had been nines and tens.
Two Irish women were out in the field digging up potatoes.
One of them pulls out a huge one and says, “Ah, it’s just like my husband’s penis.”
The other gasps, “Oh? that big?”
The first shakes her head and says, “No. That dirty.”
What is the female equivalent of teabagging?
A flappuccino.
I inherited an EpiPen from my grandfather. He wanted me to get it. That was his dying wish.
Weird, I know, I’m not even allergic.
I’m so cool I knew William Shatner when he was still William Shittingner.
“You have nothing to lose but inches!” certainly worked better with girdle sales than it does with penis enhancement products.
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