That poor filthy mud encrusted motor mouthed peasant surf WAS being repressed, by the violence inherent in the system!!

And Dawes!

They're all just filled up with Slim Jims and Faygo.

I don't hate Trump supporters, but I am utterly baffled and bewildered by their reluctance to acknowledge in any reasonable, sane way just how despicably self involved and even delusional he actually is. It's not like he hasn't made it perfectly clear throughout his campaign—and many, many, many times over the…

Yes, I also felt that statement was particularly insulting to the dog. Poor lil doggie.

I honestly feel not the slightest, teeny tiny bit ashamed or conflicted expressing so boldly, so publicly that the stunningly attractive, outrageously alluring Scarlett Johansson inspires in me the most raw, most primal, most uninhibited riotous feelings of absolute, complete, total, pure ambivalence… Yes, I'm kinda…

Ok guys, now's our chance to take an upskirt pict with flash!

or resemble.

I'm just glad it's not Irony. Nobody wants to pay for Irony.

Betty White is no longer over 200 tons. She recently purged herself down to her peak street fighting weight of 146 tons.

I joined the resistance for the campfire wienie roasts and singalongs.

*laser pistol blasts torch out of Lady Liberty's hand*

Kracken is the most repulsive, vile, human-alimentary-canal-incompatible potent potable I've ever allowed pass over my otherwise discerning, supple, pouty lips.

Something something popular 19th century British author reference.

My Honey Dew list includes subduing all upstarts, vanquishing all challengers, and replacing the battery in the smoke/succubus alarm.

Sounds like Reaganomics. So what do we call Trump's economic policy? Cretinomics? Feudalomics? Yer Mom's a Whorenomics?

None darker!

Oh sure, Lady Liberty is in the dark, but who ya think's gotta go down to the basement to check the fuse box? That's right, Mr. Liberty, who also gotta respond to all unusual sounds in the middle of the night, as well as making midnight runs to the Wawa to fetch a pint of Chunky Monkey or a bag of Tropical Skittles or…

…in bed.

Aw, 2 more and you woulda had a number of individuals assembled in that hole in the ground which woulda amounted to what in some more casual, less formal circles is commonly and self satisfyingly referred to as a Baker's Dozen, which is actually a virtually irrelevant, unhelpful and humorlessly tedious factoid. Yes,…