“Hey, guys, imagine, like, Taco Bell, but it makes you volcanically sick marginally less frequently?”

You just don’t UNDERSTAND! Crutchy is a GOOD GUY! He made a MISTAKE! (Runs to room sobbing, slams the door.)

Please tell me this is also a bottle opener.

Crutchy or GTFO. (Respectfully.)

All these arguments are premised on the idea that providing McDonald’s employees with the ability to pay rent and feed their families is outweighed by the accompanying ten-cent increase in the price of Big Macs for the rest of us.

I was talking to a guy the other day whose job it is to repair self-check-out computers. He’s on call at all hours of the day and night and is the sole technician for an area spanning two large midwestern states.

So I have a question about dickholes. Assholes are clearly the holes in asses, but are we totally sure that dickholes are necessarily the holes in dicks? Because if they’re not — if they’re holes for dicks — then I think we have unlocked a whole new world of (admittedly heteronormative) genital slang. For example,…

We’ve had several places in town switch, at considerable expense, to self-check-out lanes, then switch again, at considerable expense, back to regular checkout after shoplifting went crazy.

Ah, you’d be surprised. The Walgreens in our neighborhood switched to self-checkout, which lasted about a month before they switched it back in response to the skyrocketing shoplifting. Have faith in humanity(’s enthusiastic willingness to commit crimes unless there are human employees present).

I have no idea, but it’s very sad; you all are missing out on a stress-free life of knowing that, wherever you are, you’ll be able to poop if the need arises. (Which sounds like a mashup of “Wherever You Go, There You Are,” and “Everybody Poops.”)

And, like a typical useless performance artist, her apology is yet another monument to her mighty zeppelin of self-regard. She is not “the most hated person in the world”; she’s just another run-of-the-mill self-important asshole.

Precision is important. I didn’t want to give the impression that my wife is standoffish when pooping elsewhere in the home, because she’s totally not.

Maybe if they don’t want someone doing stuff with their national treasures, they shouldn’t sell them? Because if you sell someone a piece of jewelry, it seems kind of ridiculous to then tell them that they aren’t allowed to remove it from the store. Maybe they should take a page out of Hugh Hefner’s book and try to…

I believe technically a standoff is what happens when two awkward junior-high boys challenge each other on the dance floor at homecoming.

“James Brown sometimes work a cape” is no my go-to distinction between James Brown and literally anyone else. (What’s the difference between James Brown and Stockard Channing? James Brown sometimes wore a cape.) Well, everyone except Liberace, I guess. There is no difference between James Brown and Liberace.

That’s why I always peel my olives. I don’t want people thinking I’m a heroin addict just because I had a big greek salad.

Seriously. If cops do what they do best in this scenario, he’ll have all the farts sucked out of his ass.

Honestly, I didn’t realize he had such a way with words. I’m curious about his new single now.

My wife has the identical reaction if I try to ask her a question through the door while she’s taking a dump in our home (specifically, in the bathroom of our home). Her lady-poops require the illusion of total solitude; she would be far more regular if the rest of the species were wiped out, leaving her the last…

I was once in a middle stall when two gentlemen ensconced themselves in the stalls on either side of me, then proceeded to have a conversation with each other through my stall while they took their respective dumps.