Once again I find myself a few (magick?) sandwiches short of a picnic. So I offer you the condiments of my mind with another helping of Sandwich Fixins.
When you order Domino’s online, you can post your order to Facebook. As technological solipsism reaches its zenith, can the apocalypse be far behind?
My dream job would be to work in a think tank at Arm & Hammer, coming up with new ways to market baking soda.
When I need to feel smart, I read a message board—any message board. The writers’ streams of consciousness read more like comatose trickles.
How many bars of soap could be made from the rendered fat of Rush Limbaugh?
When did “gift” become a verb? “The star was gifted the necklace after the photo shoot.” Wasn’t she given the necklace?
When did “shone” disappear? For example, “The star shined at the opening.” I don’t understand. Was she polishing something?
I saw Karl Rove in person, so I can cross “be in the presence of evil” off my bucket list.
If you feel that any of my jokes require a little help, add your own percussion with Instant Rimshot.