What is it? An infection of the respiratory system and rash caused by a virus and/or Jenny McCarthy.

Nope. They are binding sandwiches, and not just legally.

“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he exclaimed.“Babes, this is delicious!” he…

As I gazed upon the sliced turkey breast and ham, I realized nothing could compare to his magnificent meat rod.

In my house it's exactly like that but I tell LoniManderson that true love is just 300 bottles of Vodka away. He keeps rambling on about how if that's true then I must have reached some ecstatic, joyous higher plane of Nirvana-like love, but I don't really understand ever what he is talking about because I'm usually…

the world isn't ready for that threesome

I automatically veered my attention to the "Dogs that are Afraid of Farts" link at the right. Didn't even get to number 4 on sleepy dog list.

I Know a guy whose ex fiancé took the lids to everything in the house when he kicked her out. The lids to the pots and pans. The lids to every storage container. The toilet lid. Just the lids. I love it, the girl must have been a real winner.

Avril is not amused, you guys.

This is so precisely a proportionate response for a shitty breakup. Not too over-the-line, not too obsessive, not too life-ruiningly cruel: just perfect.

My brother-in-law worked at such a place.

Counterpoint:

Yes, this happened. NBC aired the above video on National Elephant Appreciation Day.

while I agree the NRA is way too extreme the fact remains that without them we'd be an unarmed population with no real means to keep the government at least remotely honest.

Who do you think this guy's hunting to feed, Charlie Weis?

But I think if I were asleep on a beach and I woke up and there was a lobster on my chest—a big five-pound lobster with its fucking claws free and ready to kill—I would shit my pants and run.

Fuck this.

Reminds me of a different part of morning routine.

I have boobs, yet am still mesmerized by them. They're lovely as tea trays, cozy cushions for the weary, dispensers of nutrition and sireens that call the sailors into the shoals of certain death. You're just fighting a losing battle here people.