Run with the sheep.
A dish split for the pods. Go serve it to the gods. Charge 'em too.
A friend in need is like an umbrella without a pickle. -- Sour Puss
A twitch in the spine needs some twine, with which you can sew a stitch in time.
Butt the mustard, don't cut it. Never cut mustard. That's what you do with custard.
Death Alley. At the bottom of Breath Valley. Hard to see from the rim.
Geld the Lydia and send her lilies, willy nilly, Billy.
Gloom and boom. Boom and doom. Doom and room to go boom in the gloom.
Hopping like flies, dropping hot potatoes everywhere. Can hardly hear yourself scream over the noise any more.
I used to have an inkling until it flew away to join the circus, softly tinkling.
Katy — bar the kangaroo and meet me in court. Hop to it!
Let's get down to brat smacks, ticky-tacks, and rat snacks.
Never go anywhere without a fox in your pocket. Or locks on a stick to lock it.
No mice. No dice. No rice. I'm truly poor, sitting here on the floor, a boor.
Pull yourself up by your bootflaps, but be quiet about it. Maw is a-sleepin'.
The best laid hams of mites and men. Some in-transit shrinkage may occur.
The elephant in the gloom. The gloom in the room. Room in the flume. The spume in the tomb.
Walk free. Walk tall. Walk the plank, warts and all. (And watch the birdie. He bites, the little bastard.)
Yada yada yellow-belly year dot. Dot-dot. Shoot the pot. Make it rot.
You can lead a horticulture but you can't make carrots do a damn thing.
Young man's fancy — your name is mudflaps.
Have anything to add? Then email sosayseff+snorp@gmail.com
Me? Recently nominated for something by someone, somewhere.
