Monday-Punday
SirLoinDeBeef gleefully watched as the cat, yet again, deposited another delightful post-internal gift on the Persian silk carpet and concocted:
Seen on T-shirts:
Ancient orators tended to Babylon
When I talk about computers, I make my motherboard
For Lease Navidad
That cheese doesn’t belong to you … It’s nacho cheese.
Pennsylvania 5K Chicken Run – poultry in motion
Translate, please:
Male cadavers are incapable of yielding testimony.
A plethora of individuals with expertise in culinary techniques vitiate a potable concoction produced by steeping edible comestibles.
Where there are visible emissions from combustible materials, there is conflagration.
Neophitic serendipity.
Exclusive dedication to necessitous obligations without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders John a hebetuds personage.
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On the day after her third coming-out-of-retirement celebration, the notorious Matilda Gotgams was approached by her long time agent, Heronimous Mayer, who was waving a script for her attention.
Sighing, she skimmed through it, but finally, dropped it, saying, “this ist yust not for me, Mayer.”
Pleading, as usual, he said, “look, Matilda, the role is made for you. You’ll be in Alaska, covered in luxurious fur, with six husky guys waiting to take you out.”
“Mayer,” she replied, “that’s six husky dogs pulling a sled, with me in a fur parka, covered up head-to-toe, in sub-zero weather. No, Mayer, I won’t do it.”
“But Matilda, think of the money you’ll make, as the star of …”
Cutting him off, she said, “more gilt I don’t need, Mayer.”
Continuing, he went on, “Oh, Please Matilda, think of the possibilities. You could win a Oscar.”
A smile came over her face, as she thought about the Oscar ceremony … crowds, the gown … walking over the red carpet … the adoration of her fans, and said, “OK, I vill do it. I’d luff to be an Oscar Wienner, Mayer.”
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https://www.bonappetit.com/uncategorized/article/what-goes-on-in-the-wienermobile
>>> This is, after all, cat-yack central <<<