A woman without an artichoke is like a bicycle without a fish.
Geez — a woman just kissed me. How am I supposed to eat lunch now. #SlobberyCheekEd
I did buy an inflatable woman but she turned out to be like all the others. Pretty soon no matter how careful you are, all the air leaks out, and then your friends start asking those same difficult questions again.
I just saw a fish go by on a bicycle, followed by a woman without a man. We truly live in an age of miracles, my friend, miracles.
I met a woman named Kathryn Desmonfescu Furtzwangler Schmidtjohnsson Mugabutulala Foogeewoogee. She was just sitting around in the park wondering what to do for an encore. I didn't know either, so I offered her a cookie. (Couldn't hurt, right?) She took it in her beak and flew off, leaving a small pile of poop on my right shoe. Things like this frequently happen on Thursdays and I should be grateful for the diversion, I think.
I quit being a Christian when the pastor left his family and ran off with a fresh woman. The lesson: Just Do It. I took notes.
I saw an old woman today but she didn't see me. No shots were fired.
Met a nice woman, Lisette Laundrette. She's a clean freak.
Met a woman. Named Fernly. Likes catnip and moose casserole. Has an advanced degree in something or other beyond my comprehension. Can't stand me either.
Saw a woman today. They're rare in these parts. I forgot how big their horns get. Better not to mess with them. You always regret it.
So — everyone here seems to recognize me for some reason. The woman asked me why I don't call her "Mom" any more. I can't help but wonder what's up with that.
That naked woman you saw me with yesterday? That was my Dad. There's probably a story there somewhere.
The woman looks around the room with her eyes so dark as though she forgot to recharge them last night.
Wow — I saw a really lovely woman today. Too bad she saw me first. Impressive sprinting abilities though. That babe can MOVE!
I got here on time and she was late, not here, so now what? It's times like these that I long for my sock puppet, Angeline, who knows all about women and the sociable graces (Melanie and Joan) and how to handle them. Melanie, Angeline, and Joan make a formidable trio — too many to arm wrestle and win against, too few to consider a hostile army, yet so decisive in battle scenarios, and, at times, witheringly snotty in a way that I will never be able to cope with, so, perhaps I ought to take my box of coupons down to Mart d'Wally and purchase a posse of non-girly sock puppets with whom I could more indubitably relate to, even to the extent of dipping them into my beer before wringing them out over my mouth, thus strengthening that guy-on-guy bond much desired by all sock puppet aficionados (except the girly girls).
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Me? Had another lizard follow me home.
