I have to make every second Count.
You’d know if you understood tautology.
A Seatbelt.
Turns out he is a 50 shades of greyhound.
She said, "Wear your own then, dickhead."
It was a gripping watch.
..that I can pull it off.
He had Santa Claustrophobia.
Klaustrophobia
Rapscallion!
And it makes it easier to slam the door and run so I don’t have to pay for dinner.
He was looking for a tight seal.
She said “then wear your own one then”
Punchline
Then she smiled and hugged me tightly.
They’re my last re-shorts!
No ballroom.
"Well then, you'd better wear your own!"
They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡They're a tight knit family.
A Shoe.
Cram-ma
That's what really seals the dill.
She got burned
They’re always trying to get the quarterback.
Larry replies, “God and I are tight. He knows I have poor eyesight, so He’s fixed it so when I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, poof! The light goes on. When I’m done, poof! The light goes off.”
“Wow, that’s incredible,” the doctor says.
A little later in the day, the doctor calls Larry’s wife.
“Bonnie,” he says, “Larry is doing fine! But I had to call you because I’m in awe of his relationship with God. Is it true that he gets up during the night, and poof, the light goes on in the bathroom, and when he’s done, poof, the light goes off?”
“Oh sweet Jesus”, exclaims Bonnie. “He’s peeing in the refrigerator again!”
Claw-strophobic
They climb up a branch and get to the edge, but realize they are now trapped.
"Hold on tight!" says the first caterpillar, and he quickly chews through the branch. It snaps and they begin to fall, but he grabs two protruding twigs and steers the branch through the air with grace and finesse.
"That's amazing!" says the second caterpillar. "How in the world are you doing that?!"
The first caterpillar scoffs. "Am I the only one in the whole damn forest who knows how to drive a stick?"
it's all part of a balanced breakfast.
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!"
... it is quite hoppy
... it is very hoppy
I have to make every second Count.
I have to make every second Count.
I have to make every second Count.
I have to make every second Count.
I have to make every second Count.
No ballroom
But I just couldn't pull them off
He wanted a balanced meal.
He needed a balanced meal
He wanted a balanced breakfast
