Well, a lady calls on Blackout Wednesday and tries to make reservations for Thanksgiving: Lady: “Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for tomorrow at 6pm for 14.” “I’m sorry, we’re closed for Thanksgiving so […]
“I don’t care if it made my farts smell like Baby Jesus’ breath, or the impeccable-butthole of a Swedish model, I’m not going gluten free.”
“I ran my ex over, his parents still invited me over for Thanksgiving.”
“My problem is I’m never my type’s type”.
“Disney made me masturbate in a bar.”