Disciple dreams about Christmas with the Kranks.
Spending the night in the drunk tank for taking your shirt off at Sears and testing the vacuums on your chest hair doesn't count as prison.
This reminds me of the Happy Days theme song, except a lot less happy.
"I don't want to go to summer camp. The other kids throw garbage at me."
Do you want to sit down and talk about it? How about a nice glass of antifreeze?
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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