You’re a proud individual, and there are just some things that you’ve never been able to bring yourself to say, but “Give me some more goddamned fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy right fucking now” isn’t one of them.
You keep insisting that your love life is nobody’s business, but the nice men and women in the lab coats are just trying to help you make more pandas.
Everyone likes a comforting bowl of hot, tasty soup, but somehow you expected more from life.
Your naïve belief that girls don’t go to the bathroom will be conclusively and graphically disproven this week, during the last blind date you’ll ever have.
Your undying patriotism and staunch “my country right or wrong” stance will continue to prevent you from reading a newspaper.
You’ll soon play a small part in the history of the vast interstellar navy of Quondrax, a planet where they can only christen a new Star Dreadnought by smashing an asshole like you across its bow.
You weren’t a member, and you never watched them perform, but still, you have no idea what you’ll do with yourself now that the Romanian women’s gymnastics team has disbanded.
No one’s escaped from the place since the day it was built, but that shouldn’t stop you from attempting to break out of the American Family Insurance offices on Frontage Road.
You knew that hanging out with that fire-eating strongman and sword-swallower would get you in trouble, but you thought it would be related to fire-eating or sword-swallowing, not check-kiting.
You never liked bears, never had any curiosity about bears, and hardly ever think about them, so it’s no surprise that there aren’t any around when you could really use one.
It’s really too bad you don’t follow professional sports, because you’ll soon be hit by a bolt of lightning and gain the ability to have the latest scores scroll across the bottom of your eyes.
All your plans that are not impossible are too intimidating for you to ever seriously contemplate carrying them out, but good luck anyway.
