Ya know what? Good. I mean, what is Thursday anyway? Friday’s younger, uglier brother? (The one with the lisp?)
In his defense, it was freezing in that room!
What I wouldn’t give to be twenty-three-teen again.
Okay, my brain just turned to tapioca.
Up next? Fixing that inbread problem. (See what I did there?)
Really? Tell me more.
Technically, by today’s standards, this is pretty accurate. Breasts are just that: a clue, not a guarantee. Perhaps the gun wasn’t the only thing tucked away. So this one gets a pass.
Cocaine’s a helluva drug!
I think Wayne was smokin’ a lil’ Smoochy Poochy when he wrote that one.
That’s an unfortunate side effect.
Please: someone grab one of those guns from the shop, and take that headline behind the barn and shoot it.
My guess? Lucy was low-key trolling ’cause she really wanted to write about puppies.
That’s gonna be a long trial.
Also, that extra glass of Apothic Red.
F*ckin’ Wayne! (*I thought he got fired.)
I would only read this if Captain Obvious used twerking photos to illustrate.
Editor: “Scott, we need a headline.”
Scott: “I’m workin’ on it. Don’t worry, I’ll have it to you before I leave today.”
Morgan Freeman: “But Scott would not submit a headline before he left that day. Instead, he took a long lunch, ate way too much Del Taco, and spent the last 90 minutes looking up Paul Rudd memes.”
Official spokesperson: Bill Cosby.
Sprinkle poison in the dumpsters? I’m just spitballin’ here.
Can I get the address of that bar? (*Asking for a friend.)
Related: ads so sexist, you can’t not laugh.