Gerald R. Ford, Jimmy Carter: Long rumored to be the same man — New Jersey con artist Jack Levy — just with his hair parted in a different direction.
It is with great interest that I write to you (again) in regards to the position of space captain on the Mars One vessel. I know what you’re thinking: “That position does not exist.”
You bark for literally 23 hours a day. You bark when I sleep, you bark when I wake. I leave the room to your barking, I come back: still barking.
As a student on Long Island during the onslaught of Hurricane Sandy, I’ve had mixed feelings about the whole situation. On one hand: no school for a week! On the other hand: no gasoline or drinking water!
As you may or may not know, Hofstra University, which I attend, was the host of the presidential debate yesterday. “Who cares,” you say, “where’s my list of 20 things?” Calm down. We’ll get there (No we won’t).
If another ram comes within like, a hundred yards of his mate, he tries his best to head butt that ram off of a mountain. Let me say that again. They head butt each other. On top of a mountain. Because of a goat.
I love Breaking Bad so much, I’ve started cooking and selling meth myself, something that I probably shouldn’t have admitted on the internet just now. If you’re looking to join me in the meth trade, there are a few things you should do before you begin.
Now, I’m sure there are plenty of reasons why I’m not invited to parties. I’m not very cool. My scent has been described as tangy. I’m frequently on juice cleanses, and log a lot of bathroom time. But if I don’t know what the specific reason you’re not inviting me is, I can’t fix it. So, what is it?