Something tells me that Mitt Romney's sex face is the same as his regular face.
As hipster chicks age, and their skin starts to sag, tramp stamps sink below waistbands, like the sun slipping into the sea.
Egg nog. Because nothing satisfies like a cold glass of eggs.
If God had wanted women to have giant, fake boobs he'd be a lot like my brother.
As anyone who's ever adopted a dog will tell you, there's always the fear that one day the birth parents will come scratching at the door.
Our dog just wanders around the house with a concerned look on his face. Dogs are just people who can't find their phone.