My friend Grant had his skin forcibly removed. What a flay Grant violation.
What do you call a matador who gets trampled? A dor mat.
I took a swing at the fog, but I mist.
So… I beat my boss over the head with a pie chart. And they charged me with a graph-aided assault.
Ritchie Valens song about terrorism: ‘Allah Bomba’.
Don’t discuss units of heat with me. I will BTU!
Anyone placed in a jar against their will has been vialated.
Somebody punctuated me in the face, and I ended up in a comma.
Race me to that glass of vegetable juice, and I will beet you to a pulp.
A punch to the side of the head, aka a knuckle ear missile.