The probability that a monkey would throw its shit against the wall and have it look exactly like Shakespeare is, on the other hand, extremely likely in our lifetime.

First, I throw in a jalapeno as a life preserver, then I come in with the second chip like an S.S. Minnow sent from heaven. Finally I Mobey Dick the rescue team and send them to the depths of hell that is my digestive tract.

Is the goal to get last place?

Looks like an albino Harvey Weinstein.

Can't believe that glass at the bottom of the photo has survived being on the counter without a cat pawing it off.

616 gallons per flush.

I just wanted a knightcap...

PETER VENKMAN: He's gonna take a little nap now, but, uh, he says he's Florida Man. Does that make any sense to you?

EGON SPENGLER: Some. I just met California Man. He's here with me now.

PETER VENKMAN: Oh, wonderful. We have to get these two together.

EGON SPENGLER: I think that would be extraordinarily dangerous.

I always felt like Scotty was the only one who truly understood Spock's technobabble.

Well don't keep me in suspense! What was her answer?!

Sounds like the hamster wants out.

I read the title as someone from Boston saying, 'He got the job, didn't he?!?"