Of course, those rolled-up posters to the right are Walrus’s latest life-sized studio out-takes of intern applicants. Reply to this comment
Either the guest chair has magically disappeared, or the guy in the hat has no legs. Reply to this comment
“Oppo, I’m from the FBI. I want to see everything that has come from or gone to all of your commenters. FISA!” “Gesundheit!” 1 Reply to this comment
“No, I’m just here for the holiday package. And nothing else.” — Mr. Smoke-Too-Much 2 Reply to this comment
“Those can’t be for me, it’s from the IRS. I don’t associate with such low-lifes.” 2 Reply to this comment
“You Have Mail in Your Slot for Pick-Up” Oh no. I’m not falling for that twice. 1 Reply to this comment
Mail will no longer be called mail as it is too close to that abhorrent term ” male”. It will now be referred to as ” nonbinary documentation”. You’re welcome… 2 Reply to this comment
Ahh, the old “Does your doggie bite?” routine…
Of course, those rolled-up posters to the right are Walrus’s latest life-sized studio out-takes of intern applicants.
Either the guest chair has magically disappeared, or the guy in the hat has no legs.
“Oppo, I’m from the FBI. I want to see everything that has come from or gone to all of your commenters. FISA!”
“Gesundheit!”
That’s Mel Brooks with the stache!
Legendary.
“Do you want to come upstairs?”
“No, I’m just here for the holiday package. And nothing else.”
— Mr. Smoke-Too-Much
“Those can’t be for me, it’s from the IRS. I don’t associate with such low-lifes.”
“I weel not buy this premise; it is scratched.”
Bills, bills, bills. Nothing but bills.
“You Have Mail in Your Slot for Pick-Up”
Oh no. I’m not falling for that twice.
“Here is your entry ticket. Watch your head going under the archway.”
Mail will no longer be called mail as it is too close to that abhorrent term ” male”. It will now be referred to as ” nonbinary documentation”.
You’re welcome…