I can’t stand my spouse’s family and she can’t stand mine. We’re kin dread souls.
My friend warned me about getting into a love triangle with acute guy. She said “What’s his angle? He seems really shallow, and something about him just isn’t right.” She told me to stop being obtuse. “When I first looked at him isosceles written all over him,” she said. Turns out she was right: I’m no longer scalene the heights of love. I need to do a complete 180.
When a Muslim butcher gets a divorce, does he have to pay halalimony?
Would you call a love doctor a Romeopath?
My girlfriend had feet where there should have been nipples. Just thinking about her makes me hungry for TosTitos.
When the B-52 bomber pilot got divorced, he had to pay loads.
Romance flowers when you least expect! My pal Pete Rose, a bouquet at the racetracks, has a girlfriend named Bea. They met at a party, and she laughed when he offered to fertilizer. She looked at his pistil and said “I bet you don’t have stamena.” How a pollen right? And yet he nectar anyway! Then they ducked into a bathroom and she bloom on all florist. Wow, they seed an opportunity and didn’t waste mulch time; now they’re inseparable. That’s love for you, not just a ficus of the imagination. It never turns out as you plant.
Never date a downhill skier. You’ll end up with slopey seconds.
I miss sugar. After all these years we glucose.