Flush with anticipation, Vicky opened the door to greet her date, whom a friend had set her up with.
There stood one pitiful, butt-ugly man.
Chiding herself for being disappointed and shallow, Vicky determined to make the most of the evening, only to discover he had a personality to match.
The rooster began crowing to beat hell at 5:00 a.m. It was the first sound that Tom heard. Half asleep he thought, “If you wake my old man again, you stupid chicken.” The “stupid chicken” crowed a second time, louder. The third sound Tom heard came from his father’s shotgun.
Gerald prided himself on his toast-making ability–golden-brown perfection every time. One fateful morning, however, his toaster had other ideas. The rebellious appliance launched his toast with a woosh straight into the fish tank. Gerald sighed. The goldfish—named Toast—looked up, unimpressed. “Irony,” Gerald muttered, fishing his breakfast out of the water.
Barack Obama, former Choom Gang member, told ESPN’s Michael Wilbon that he wishes his daughters had his street cred. “They don’t hoop any more, they’ve got no roll in their stroll. Hell, they were into the Jonas Freaking Brothers. Some days I worry that they take after my white half.”