A College graduate. I sold my diploma and the picture frame it was in for cat food. I do not have a cat. And I, myself, am not hungry.
I work in the county jail as a scientist. The confusion helps conceal my experiments. You’ll thank me when I finally invent “shoes.”
I write poetry about the class warfare betwixt pens and pencils. “We are not so unlike one another,” is a line I use when I empathize.
I still can’t afford to let my parents know about my secret half-sister, half-Dalmatian. I gave her her middle name. It’s Alan. Betsy Alan Doggy.
I have over 40 bowls in my lazy-Suzann. Lazy? She works all the time and still never gets ahead.
I am full of processed meats and assorted Halloween candy. I draw strength from empty calories. And guess what? Chicken butt!
I feel almost nothing when I see a bird.
I’ve memorized your address and your Social Security number. Yes, you!
I can’t remember what time Jeopardy comes on. 7:30?
I support the notepad industry.
I am the .000000001%