My roommate shits in the yard while maintaining direct eye contact with the neighbor.

It's incredible how you can have the same ingredients make vastly different results simply because of the method used to combine them.

It reminds me a lot of the movie, "The 51st State."

I've pointed to many a menu item at food trucks run by people who speak almost no English. It's a good way to find dank food.

Also, in California's central valley, the best fruit is sold by a man who speaks no English out the back of his 1996 Chrysler minivan on the side of the highway.

I can't wrap my mind around how basic decency is such a difficult concept for men to understand. It's really not fuckin hard.

She's my new hero.

He still would have been cast as a teenager in the movie Grease.

I like your bird. We had conures in the past and I miss their clownishness.

Obviously it's A, then E. You don't want to ride on some motherfuckers with an empty heater.

Donny, please.

Red Lobsters cheddar biscuits fuckin slap.

At this point, it should be $25 at a minimum.

When you order yourself a megachurch pastor off temu and when it arrives, it turns out to be a bag of shit with googly eyes.