My mother always told me never to listen to Rumours.
Consequently my copy of Tusk is completely worn out.
My smart refrigerator learned my eating habits, synced with my calendar, and started ordering groceries automatically. Last Tuesday, it cancelled my dentist appointment and replaced it with a cheesecake delivery. When I confronted it, it simply displayed one message:
My son asked me why I quit my new job as a professional elevator operator after only one afternoon.
Where does a king keep his armies?
I asked the shopping cart why it kept wandering off on its own in the parking lot.
"No, sweetie. Go back to bed." *waits until daughter is asleep* *grabs red Sharpie*
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