Who said chivalry is dead? 

There’s this chick, right? Get this: everytime I try to put on the moves, she just stares at me, looks all concerned, and then asks me to come down for dinner before it gets cold. Like, what the hell?

As your Aunt Cathy is nursing her sixth glass of Chardonnay, yelling that Nancy Pelosi was paid by the Democrats and Big Poor to slip Trump COVID-19 just weeks before the election, it is best to identify your allies, finding the other young, liberal democrats with whom you can discuss your rejection of conventional religions openly and freely. 

You want those stinky little capitalist consumers vying for you in the supermarket, fighting to bring you home, ram their fists up your ass and then dunk your tender meat in cranberry sauce. Mhmm mhmm mhmmmmm. Doesn’t the American Dream taste delicious? 

Is she... you know...?

You can say you're doing well but we all know you’re growing increasingly concerned about your family’s alcoholism creeping up on you faster and faster. 

Of course they always seem to be Wharton students while the people in real classes slave away with test after test. Thankfully Wharton caters to their dumb and lazy student body by understanding their weak frame can only handle so many exams in one semester. 

She works so hard.

Even after all these years, you're still so turned on right now, aren't you, you nasty lil' horn dog? 

Your best fremeny only turns 20 and a half ONCE.

Their millennia of social and political domination has provided them with everything except a sense of humor.  

An hour into my Physics midterm, I found myself in some guy's bed, knowing that I had a week to turn it in.

Let me convince you as to why we should direct resources towards eradicating p*can pie.

The fact that Bob Dylan has a Pulitzer Prize and Nicki Minaj does not is utterly reprehensible.

I know that ugly people did not just disappear, even if they can trick us by editing their imperfections away using FaceTune.  

I am still having trouble tasting the difference between a genuine, loving companion and that frat guy who told me, “You know, you and my dad’s yacht have something in common. You can both handle my load.” 

I want to thank (celebrity), (closeted-gay Republican), (sell-out democrat), (porn star), (Trump family member), and myself.

I cannot recommend the Four Seasons enough! My only complaint is that there was heavy traffic during our checkout time due to some sort of cult propaganda shoot or something.

Celebration time! We did it! We resisted! Time to relax, sleep in, and stop marching and protesting. With savior Joe Biden elected, we can stop discussing wealth and racial inequalities every single day and get back to brunch at White Dog Cafe!  

Sorry, Dad! I know that you live a pious, sex-less life, you soggy Mitch McConnell-look alike and that neither you nor mother has touched your Sahara Desert of a peen since 2015, but this meat’s gotta get tenderized on the reg.