Pop-Tarts
I eat Pop-Tarts the same way everytime. First i bite off the corners. Then the edges. Then i eat the crustless center. I never toast them.
The Black Angus Steak is a beautiful thing.
I have a single two-inch-long hair on my right forearm.
I first noticed it several months ago, and it has continued to grow—unhindered, unshorn—completely oblivious that his neighbors gave up long ago.
I wonder if it’s the source of some great power like Samson’s hair or Chandler’s nubbin.
No joke. 10:30 in the morning. I’m sitting in the parking lot. And there goes Kevin walking into Old Country Buffet.
I wonder how long it will be until it’s uncool to have a Gmail account.