I don't have a beer gut, I have a protective covering for my rock hard abs.
One day, a little boy wrote to Santa Clause, "Please send me a sister." Santa Clause wrote him back, "Ok, send me your mother."
I discovered I scream the same way whether I'm about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.
If it's true that we are here to help others, then what exactly are the others here for?
