Category: Verbal Assassinations

197

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — DRK @

My God, Newbie, it’s been two furiously frustrating years – how is it possible that you still don’t get me? I would never compare you to the gays! I like the gays – I like their music, I like their sense of style, I especially like what they’ve done with Halloween – but our thing is that you are a little girl. That’s who you are!

522

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — @

You, my friend, look so damn leathery I’m honestly tempted to wrap ya around a baseball, synch ya up with a belt, and stick ya under my mattress so that you’re good and broken in for the big game on Sunday. Buut, since I’m here to heal not judge, I’m gonna go ahead and write you a couple of prescriptions. You’ll find that this first one is for an extra large mallet to help ya pound some sense into yourself. The second one is for a big floppy hat that you’re now to wear every single time ya leave the house. Have a great day, ya look like a purse!

198

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — DRK @

Nine pounds in a week!? Let me ask you a quick question: are you trying to make my head explode? Because you have no idea just how frustrating it is working your ass off trying to inflate a tiny little balloon inside someone’s clogged artery. And all that a person has to do, really, is – oh, I don’t know – go for a walk in the morning or choke down a fresh green salad. And you come back here looking like that!?! And I know, I know, here I’m supposed to be Dr. Give A Crap, but you wanna know the God’s honest truth? And this is a fact – you are what you eat, and you clearly went out and devoured a big fat guy, didn’cha!

525

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — @

I’d focus, because that tiny patch of skin on my son’s forehead is more important to me than the entirety of your whole high-fiving, head-shaving, air-balling, mole-lipping, insulin-needing existence, which I guarantee you will come to an abrupt very unnatural end.

199

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — DRK @

Oh, and Nervous Guy- if I were you, I’d go ahead and swallow that entire mouthful of baby carrots. Because, if I hear you make even one more damn crunch, I’m gonna use the remainder of the carrots in that bag to make you completely air-tight, son.

530

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — @

Back off there, lady. How’s about you save up all that energy for the cruise? Go on get out of here. Hippity hop to the barbershop. Come on, Mom.

205

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — DRK @

No, you look! If someone had asked me just this morning, Is there any way that I could have less respect for you two geniuses? I would have said, No! No, that’s not possible!” But, lo and behold, you went and pulled it off. Congratulations. The only problem is I’m -I’m fresh out of blue ribbons, so instead, you’re gonna have to settle for a lifetime supply of my foot up your ass! Now go home. You’re not fit to work tonight.”

545

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — @

And on behalf of men everywhere — and I do mean everywhere, including the ones in the little mud huts – let me be the first to say thanks and alleluia!

253

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — DRK @

Look, Tammy, as far as your love life goes, normally I couldn’t care less who’s laying your quivering body down by the fire while your lips whisper No, no…no” but your eyes scream, “Yes. Yes. Oh, big daddy, yes!” But when you’re dating Jordan’s sissy-poo, it forces me to spend time with you outside of the hospital, and I just won’t have that. So, hhhere’s the deal: Don’t want to have dinner with you. Don’t want to go bowling with you. And I never, ever again want to walk into my kitchen and hear you say, “Ohh, it’s waffle time! It’s waffle time! Won’t you have some waffles of mine?”

732

Filed under: Verbal Assassinations — @

A tip jar. Really? So what am I supposed to do, just duke you my change because you poured hot water through beans? Well, I’ll tell you what, my friend, unless you’re also planning on giving me a complimentary reach-around with my beverage, I’m afraid the answer is yeah…no! Here’s a–here’s a novel idea: Why don’t you go fetch me a very large cup of coffee with so damn many fake sugars in it, that the coffee itself gets cancer.

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