Probably, they poop footballs, too, but that sounds far too painful to think about very closely. Do they give the fishmongers tossing haddock around down by the docks tips on how to throw a spiral?
I once took off my shoes and illustrated points with holey-toed sock puppets.
I'm guessing the suppository system was probably invented by a doctor with a particularly troublesome patient. Maybe it's one on either side, and they duke it out in a saint-on-saint fetal deathmatch when there's a conception in question. Except she left a big honking wad of salad hanging out in the fridge. Chicks dig the veggies, you know.
And would it excommunicate you to throw a guardian angel at a couple of these? The weekend gods gave me a big fat virtual swirly, heavy on the fudge sauce.
Those syrups taste nasty and spill everywhere.
Do they line up the shoppers at the grocery store to coordinate a blitz on the checkout clerks? And that ill-fated trip to DisneyWorld a few years back.
Most of the time back then, I wasn't wearing any pants at all.
He went to see his doctor, who prescribed medicine to help.
Somebody just tell me whose boobs to make the check out to.
Her specialty is cans and jars; I haven't won a 'screw-top battle' for years.
Probably should have left it there. Meanwhile, my wife will be doing the same.
The 'behind the scenes' team cheerleader tryout documentaries were particularly disappointing. Mission accomplished. She mentioned that my uncle Doug has been having some minor health problems. It showed up one day a few months ago in our satellite channel list, and was fairly useless for the remainder of the offseason.
If all goes to plan, I told her, I won't be wearing pants for the next three days. There was a half a can of olives that sat in our fridge for three years before I finally gave in, put on a hazmat suit, and disposed of them. Meanwhile, my wife will be doing the same.