if poppy seeds were green one might commit you to an institution.
Oh, that I would stop shrinking.
This is not the toast I wanted. – Chris
So I said to the guy, “if you’re gonna sell me this cow, you gotta give me some kind of guarantee that it ain’t gonna explode like those chickens. I mean my son lost three fingers!”
Saturday it rained. It wasn’t the usual lingering sprinkle you know is going to last all day. No, Saturday it rained herring; little bits at first then whole ones.
Category: non sequitur