If I ever see that gecko…
…I’m gonna strangle him. I often fall asleep with one hand in the popcorn bowl, the TV flickering merrily away in the corner. But invariably, at some time during the night, that stupid dumb rotten miserable Geico gecko will start hollering about his stupid dumb rotten miserable flat tire, and it’ll startle me and I’ll jerk and spill popcorn all over the place. The rest of the night I have merry dreams of feasting on roasted gecko for breakfast.
Honestly, since the CALM Law went into effect last year, I don’t know how Geico gets away with it. (The CALM Law is an example of what good Congress can do if they can cooperate for twelve seconds. Advertisers can’t have their commercials blaringly loud any more. That’s a good thing!) But if I ever catch that damned gecko, I’m going to holler at him. Loudly. And I shan’t buy their stupid dumb rotten lousy insurance, either.
Math Is Important
Fourteen Pringles chips = Joy
Fifteen Pringles chips = Upset Tummy
Dear Disapproving Neighbor,
If you don’t want to see me wandering around in my undershorts, you shouldn’t drive by when I’m gardening.
I don’t often get time to watch the local news, but I’ll peek at our local stations’ web sites every now and then to try to keep up. I’m consistently appalled at the atrocious spelling and grammar mistakes. The last article I read consistently called the Taylor family “the tailors.”
Yes, you’re in a hurry to fine your story, but take the minute and a half necessary to glance over it. You’re losing credibility. *shakes fist feebly in the air*
I was going to watch football this afternoon, but it looks like I’ll have to watch a Vikings game instead. Ah well.