How does a mobster turn down fudge? A: “Fudgegettaboutit!“
Indian raitas pen a lot of naan-fiction. They unfold at a curried paste. I like to sit down in Mahal and read them. I got so engrossed the last time when my mom was leaving the house I didn’t even wish her ‘Mum, bai.’ Lucky she left me a deli sandwich. I Vishnu could read them all, but in India, of these books, they ban galore.
I want a job at Canada Goose. Guess I’ll have to learn coating.
Which Nazi loved Michael Jordan?
Joseph Goebbels. He loved it when things were Goering well for the Chicago squad, and especially when MJ would achieve Luftwaffe and Reich up the points. For the fans, it was beyond their wildest iMaginotion. It was Panzermonium.
Forget Bran Stark. After getting punched in the face Jose Bautista can’t stop shouting “Odor! Odor!“
The British soccer team needs an attitude adjustment to win. It’s a Man U mental task.
The proctologist cut down drastically on his patient load, because he was on hole-a-day.
Microwaves don’t move. They are in a minute objects.
When the college dormitory tampon machine broke, they declared a coed red.
I can’t afford long distance calls. I’m down to my last far thing.


