An ancient Greek playwright walks into a tailor shop and approaches the counter holding a robe. He shows the tailor a large hole torn in the side of the robe.
The tailor looks at him and said "Euripides?”
The playwright responds, “Eumenides.”
Snort. They sound Italian, though.
My pencil isn’t prone to making Freudian slips but my penis.
(they're reading OK?)
At first I was all like derp and then....
yeah, took me a sec to figure it out too...
That makes it more fun!
I guess I'm a monster. I write all over my books, too.
So do I. They're mine and I'll abuse them if I want to.
Because I am so autistic, in school I always looked for used text books that looked like a smart person had owned it, in terms of the highlighting, if at at glance it seemed like they knew what was the meat and potatoes, I'd take it.