Now that I’ve got my texturizing créme pomade in, I am ready to KICK THIS DAY’S ASS.

How many times do you have to cycle through your very limited collection of steampunk-approved DVDs—basically, Van Helsing, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Young Sherlock Holmes, and Howl’s Moving Castle—before you realize you might have jumped on the wrong band-dirigible?
If the Volvos of Los Altos are any indication, Barack Obama has despoiled a lot of bumper sticker virgins.
If your cat poops gold, then cleaning the litter box is exactly like panning for gold.
Thanks to modern looms, ascetics’ hair shirts are now quite comfortable.
Hmm, the 4th hole in my belt is no longer on speaking terms with the buckle. They won’t go near each other.
Prospective preschool website references Waldorf, Montessori, Piaget, AND Dewey. Pedagogical sluts.
If I were .1% wealthy, I would name my palatial estate “Red Lobster.”
Oh, OK, now I get the joke. I had been emphasizing the wrong word: “THAT’s what she said.”
A violent military government would seem less scary if they spelled it “hoonta.”
I should mention I am the worst “Office” offender of all. I’ll get the ball rolling so I can call dibs on Jim H.