My friend Annette is a puppet, but she’s a catch. I think I might marry Annette.
As a serial divorcé, Donald Trump truly represents the marry again people.
The unhappy bride came with a quite a doury.
My friend married a pig. She divorced him soon after, claiming he was a boar.
I moved to the Italian capital and married a fumigator. But we got divorced because after a while the Rome ants was all gone.
Want to marry a river horse? I won’t hippos you. Or a horned ungulate? Sure, love has neither rhino reason.
All eyes are on Tiger’s wood. It’s affair way to heaven to marry a celebrity, but I wouldn’t take him back for alimony in the world.
My friend Amy gained weight by eating her husband! They charged her with Big Amy.
I get turned on by large appliances. But my wife is fridged.
My sister is marrying an organ thief. She says she wants a man after her own heart, someone who can de-liver her from her troubles, and who’ll take care of her two little kidneys after she’s gone.
As for me, I married a woman who had her face surgically removed. For love no nose limits.