The best kind of lie. The kind of lie told to amuse. The kind of lie designed to delight when the truth is revealed. Not like when you discover the hard way that a bra was padded. This is a magnificent lie.
This young man with the myopic Jesus haircut/glasses combo and the assistant manager of a Wendy’s fashion sense is the hero these times need, if not the hero these times wanted. He’s making his bones early in politics, so to speak. He’s one of those fabulous few who can convince an audience that he’s totally right, and be totally ignored anyway. I agree. Let’s stop calling chicken tenders “boneless chicken wings.” And if you ask me, we should call drumsticks “fowl-aplegic meat” instead. That’s an example of why no one ever asks me anything.
(Thanks to the estimable Charles Schneider for sending that one along)
I love donuts. Donuts are my favorite food. They are so delicious and sweet. I buy a box of donuts every day and have them at every meal. I talk to people about donuts. I watch this video about making donuts. I like looking at donuts. I even talk to donuts. I softly whisper into the box, “I love you donuts.” Donuts are love, donuts are life.
After a long hard day the entire BSBFB office has gone out for a bite to eat. You can see Rex, our head writer, there on the far left. Fido, our lead editor, is in the middle. Duke, our foreign consultant, is hopping up in the back, and Princess, our head of personnel, has the whip.
If you look very closely, you can see me in the front row. I’m the one who’s barking, and is a brown, black, and white color.