Business must really be blooming.
No, but Genghis Khan.
"Is it because I'm so beautiful?" she asked
"NO, It's because you're constantly expanding."
The poor man dyed a loan.
I really want to have a daughter and name her Zelda.
I imagine, as she gets older she will spend all her time writing sick poetry and rhymes in her journal, growing her hair down to her back, not to spite me, but so she can donate it later, and expand her wit by studying improv comedy through highschool.
As she becomes famous, I hope she will invite me to one of her rap battles and put me in the front row. My heart will grow as she takes the stage, but fatherly intuition tells me something is wrong...Zelda is frozen at the microphone.
I see her up on the stage, eyes alight with fright, hair pulled tight into a bun. She and I lock eyes, a moment of silence passes and serenity slowly enters...THIS is the moment we have been waiting for all our lives.
Looking up calmly, I couldn't be more proud as I exclaim, "Rap puns, Zel. Rap puns, Zel! Let down your hair!"
Da bomb.
Iām not fat Iām hot.
He was pronounced Dad on Arrival.
While this news undoubtedly sucks, I'm trying to take it in stride and em-brace it nonetheless! The recovery will give me the opportunitknee to improve my skills as a sideline player and some extra downtime to expand my abilities in programming and graphic design. I plan to continue at-tendon practices and other events as normal though! So many teammates, past and present, have already been incredibly supportive and reached out to help me; its certainly been a joint effort, and I can't thank you all enough for that. In hindsight, I wouldn't change akneething about attending USA U24 tryouts as tenacity, perserverance, and sacrifice are often the names of the game in pursuit of distant dreams. Ultimately, I guess some things are just liga-meant to be!
So here's the setup: I recently started working for a taxi cab company. It's surprisingly lucrative, and a shitload better than McDonalds.
So I'm working, and I'm parked in front of a bar, hoping that a fare is gonna knock on my window, when about twenty feet or so in front of me, I see a very good friend of mine. I shout, and we spend the next few minutes shooting the breeze. A fare knocks on my window, and I driver her to where she needs to go.
After, I'm driving back to that bar, and I get a call from my friend, asking if I had another fare lined up. I didn't so he told me to come back, he's got a group for me. They get in the car, and these guys start bugging the shit out of me. Which I can handle. What I can't handle is when they start dealing each other cocaine in my back seat. At that point, I'm just livid. I tell them to give me my money and get the fuck out of my car.
Later, I chat my friend up on Facebook. I tell him that I'm super-grateful that he got me a fare, but to please not ever put those particular assholes in my car again. And since our relationship is built on surreal humor and snark, I start expanding the list. Those assholes. Colombian drug lords. Justin Beiber. Kim Jong-Un. Please, no Korean dictators.
"But what about a penis-shaped potato?"
I'll admit, that one threw me for a loop. But I tell him that potatoes are fine, regardless of shape, size, color, or type.
At that point, I could almost hear him laughing as he typed "Excellent. Instead of a dictator, I'll send you with a dick tater."
I was so pissed off I had walked straight into that one.
Did you know that my favourite Indian grocery store is expanding?
They're opening up a New Delhi.
So a meth dealer is trying to expand his territory into a local school back in the late 90's. He's having a really hard time until he hits on a marketing phrase: "Meth is illin'!" For some reason, that closes every sale he tries to make at the school. It starts with the students, but then he gets some of the faculty as customers and he has one dealing the stuff. For some reason, every single time, when he says "meth is illin'!" he closes the deal. Even the administrators can't seem to resist his catchphrase.
But then his contact on the faculty alerts him to a problem -- the janitor is going to figure out what's going on, and he's going to shut everything down. The teacher is scared of the guy, but our dealer has gained so much confidence in himself that he cannot worry. He waits for the janitor on his morning route.
"Hey man, don't you know? Meth is i-"
But before he can even finish the sentence, the janitor has sprayed floor cleaner in his eyes, hit him in the gut with his mop, and crammed him in a trash can. The dealer is arrested and immediately convicted.
TL; DR: Do not fuck with "meth is illin'!" resistant staff.
