Is...is there Kraft Dinner in this adaptation?

Accompany her to a field so they can smell flowers.

Tres bien, mon chapeau.

So...Melania is going to turn out to formally been known as Milton?

...yas queen?

I do believe him when he says we never would believe where those Keebler cookies come from.

Oh yeah! The one’s where she’s churning butter, or working a lathe, or just staring from the corner...staring...and the axe...the axe!

Because it feels better than shrieking in terror every three minutes?

I am I said

I can deal with President Bomp Bomp, as long as he’s accompanied by First Lady Ka-WHUMP, House Speaker Deedle Deedle Deedle Dee, and Attorney General *wet, gurgling shriek*.

Torn to pieces! You could box up Minaj, sell her at IKEA.

I wonder how many elderly alcoholics have farted on the lap of Dog the Bounty Hunter.

...but I still don’t know what is for dinner....

I have also run across commenters using the term as a substitute for the word “offense”, writing “No shade here, but (direct insult here).” According to them, shade at rest = direct insult = no shade; shade exists only in motion, vis-a-vis throwing. Is this some new division of string theory? Do I need to reread…

“Moxie”?

How fitting, this Chris Brown story appearing in Dirt Bag.

Maybe he was THAT student that masturbated to Anne Frank’s diary.

The very worst of them call people Betty, but that’s only if someone calls them Al.

I think just about anyone would agree that crunching sounds during masturbation should only occur with a Lays potato chip fetish.

Maybe he’s finally come to terms with being a birdplane.