(no subject)
Found a stack of scraps of paper when cleaning, so here are quotes from who knows where! Probably more to come later when I do more cleaning...
But, first, two buttons I found…
Don’t torture yourself. That’s my job.
The complete lack of evidence is the surest sign the conspiracy is working.
I’d hit you with my hat, but I’d probably hit your husband, and we’ll crash.
I don’t feel under dressed. I’m showing off my chest.
It’s now official… I’m in con mode (little sleep, muchos caffeine and sugar). Be afraid. Be very afraid.
After rubbing down with water or preferably, rubbing alcohol.
If he decides he wants to dump his wife and be with me, all bets are off.
Whatever makes Jen happy and joyful and go tripping through the flowers.
“Put… the pen… down!”
“I wasn’t going to draw anything explicit!”
“How long have you been here?”
“Six years, August.”
“And it seems like an eternity.”
If they see that purse, they’re carding you.
Pie is much better for you for breakfast than chips.
“I feel the urge to sing.”
“No! Don’t! We just ate!”
I like seasons. I just don’t like cleaning up after them.
I am out like a used condom.
Ah! Don’t write that down! You’re writing that down, aren’t you?
“I traded my wife in. What do you think?”
“Well, you could’ve done worse…”
“Can I get in the trunk?”
“Wouldn’t the backseat be more comfortable?”
“Do you feel better now that you have your flannel shirt?”
“Yep!”
“It’s like comfort food for rednecks.”
“Hey! It’s got a velvet collar. It’s high class redneck!”
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mock your learning disability.
I’m being groomed, for God’s sake!
A porno palm pilot game?
I will not be muffled!
I find your lack of litter appalling.
I think I should get 3-D glasses so they can jump out at me.
But, first, two buttons I found…
Don’t torture yourself. That’s my job.
The complete lack of evidence is the surest sign the conspiracy is working.
I’d hit you with my hat, but I’d probably hit your husband, and we’ll crash.
I don’t feel under dressed. I’m showing off my chest.
It’s now official… I’m in con mode (little sleep, muchos caffeine and sugar). Be afraid. Be very afraid.
After rubbing down with water or preferably, rubbing alcohol.
If he decides he wants to dump his wife and be with me, all bets are off.
Whatever makes Jen happy and joyful and go tripping through the flowers.
“Put… the pen… down!”
“I wasn’t going to draw anything explicit!”
“How long have you been here?”
“Six years, August.”
“And it seems like an eternity.”
If they see that purse, they’re carding you.
Pie is much better for you for breakfast than chips.
“I feel the urge to sing.”
“No! Don’t! We just ate!”
I like seasons. I just don’t like cleaning up after them.
I am out like a used condom.
Ah! Don’t write that down! You’re writing that down, aren’t you?
“I traded my wife in. What do you think?”
“Well, you could’ve done worse…”
“Can I get in the trunk?”
“Wouldn’t the backseat be more comfortable?”
“Do you feel better now that you have your flannel shirt?”
“Yep!”
“It’s like comfort food for rednecks.”
“Hey! It’s got a velvet collar. It’s high class redneck!”
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mock your learning disability.
I’m being groomed, for God’s sake!
A porno palm pilot game?
I will not be muffled!
I find your lack of litter appalling.
I think I should get 3-D glasses so they can jump out at me.