Damn it, Carl! Did you just eat peanut butter-covered anchovies? You know how allergic I am! Well, when you’re driving in rush hour traffic to take me to the emergency room, I hope this moment will be worth it for you!
My God, Florence. Have you no control? I can’t even give you a simple hug without you blowing your backdoor trumpet. And no, calling them “misdirected burps” does not make them more endearing.
There has to be a way of getting out of going to Carl and Francine’s dinner party. Those two are bad enough, but throw in Florence and Hank…? I’d rather sit here alone and count cinder blocks.
Photos courtesy of AP/San Diego Zoo/Tammy Spratt; AP/Martin Meissner; Reuters/Jason Lee