“Broken or unplayable vinyl records should be recycled.”
“Well, vinyl is short for polyvinyl chloride, or PVC. They could make shiny, sexy clothes. Wouldn’t you like to get a nice, slick catsuit for your wife to wear?”
“My wife already sounds like a broken record…”
“I’m so hungry, right now.”
“Here, have a bowl of this breakfast cereal.”
” ‘Analphabits’? Don’t they mean ‘Alphabits’ ?”
“They’re very similar. But these are all broken up, so they don’t look like actual letters. They’re unreadable.”
“Ah. But the ‘Anal-’ part isn’t very appetizing.”
“Well, they do look like shit.”
Start an eBay-style site where people can sell their souls to the highest bidder.
Banking system collapses when soulless rich bankers buy everything.
World becomes a better place.
The writer was busy writing, as always. Couldn’t afford any distraction. Wouldn’t agree to any speaking engagements, as many writers do.
He would receive copies of his books by courier, and these were piled up, all around him.
He was walled-in by his own books.
Not just busy: booked solid!
For the past month, none of the girls on this online dating site had replied.
He was depressed, now. All alone in this basement he hadn’t left for weeks, he lived on a diet of Cheetos and Pepsi.
A freak virus had wiped out humanity, but he still didn’t know.
“There’s nothing I can do now, the puppies will be born sick, and die within minutes.”
My dog would give birth to nine puppies, and he couldn’t do anything.
But I could.
I sent her into the future, where her puppies could be saved.
A bitch in time saves nine.
Patricia had been plagued by that song all her life. It undermined her reputation at every turn. No one took her seriously.
One day, she decided she’d show them. “Now they’ll have to take me seriously.”
By the time her top came off, everyone was taking her very seriously indeed.