|She showed me how to rub wood until it catches fire.|
|The bench? He ate it.|
|Pretty clever idea. Suppose you find someone with silver paint on his hands. He isn't your boyfriend and you know you didn't sleep with him. Now you know who did.|
|It doesn't look like they've eaten much of anything, let alone a stupid old apple.|
|Ho. Ho. Ho.
And that's not even counting the ones in the red shorts.
|Clearly this is a sign you're overdue for a mammogram.|
|Since "Motley Crue" was already taken, they went with "Variegate Assemblage" instead.|
|And yet his sidekick is a girl. What gives?|
|I can't believe they never thought about remaking the Wizard of Oz this way either.|
|Since we're having a Rocky Horror year,
here's a quick PSA:
Don't dream it. Bee it.
|Big bow. Check.
Big hair. Check.
Big boobs. Check.
Big hands. Wait. What?
|Well, that's one flag I'll bet you could get a Republican to burn.|
|Don't turn around, uh-oh!
Der Kommissar's in town, uh-oh!
Either they lack it in their costumes or I don't have enough of it to figure out what the hell they're supposed to be.
|Yeow! Turn those outfits down!|
|Okay, what the fuck was in that peace pipe?!|
|I thought maybe he was too overeager in that classic ripping off the shirt move. Nope. It was steroids.|
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