The medieval monks were forced to bottle and vend their farts, as a form of sell-flatulation.
Solving constipation is a matter of bran over brown.
I thought I saw my twin in a looking glass but it was just a mere image.
If I got a yeast infection, I wouldn’t complain. I don’t want to seem like a spore’s port.
When it comes to meat-eating, I enjoy venison, but I absolutely love faundue!
Was everyone on drugs during the Stoneage?
Getting implants is Parton parcel of being a Southern music belle.
I was looking for a place to roost, so I went to the poultry hotel to chick inn. The guy at front desk was a bad egg (he called me a pecker!) but despite his unpheasantness I didn’t fly the coop: after all, it was only hen bok-boks a night. ‘Only hen clucks,’ I thought. I agreed to the feed, and was given free range of the place.
The Jordanian thief was like Superman, aka Amman of Steal.
When someone runs over a cat, and it has to be cleaned off the street, who picks up the tabby?


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