Occasionally I write something, and it comes out very naturally and it seems funny to me. Sometimes I write something and it comes out slowly and painfully, but at least I can see what joke I'm aiming for. Then sometimes I write something and I don't even know what the fuck I'm writing or where the idea came from. This was one of those times.
A few others of these times were:
None of these rank anywhere near the best of my stuff, but they certainly are the ones I look back on and think "Jesus, where did that idea even come from anyway?" This week joins that rank I think.
In terms of Italy news, I saw Justin Timberlake in the Sistine Chapel. When I tell people this, they often respond as though my boring trip to the Sistine Chapel was saved by at least having seen Justin Timberlake. People are weird.
I understand that sometimes "Cocktail Bar" is too long a phrase to put up on a sign. But shortening this phrase to a large neon pink sign advertising your "Cock Bar" is not the best solution. Thank you.
Evil Cooper and Chechen President Ramzan Kadyrov have both been on a rampage, but who did what?
"Your left eye," the optometrist casually explained while blasting my face with a blue laser at point blank range, "is farsighted and shaped like an eyeball. The other eye is nearsighted and shaped like a football. Not even a good football."
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