Huh?
I am Mr. Right. No one knows this but me, but that doesn't matter becuase I'm happy being me.
Mrs. Right, on the other hand (that being the left hand, but only of lightness) thinks I'm always right, because that's the side of her I saty on. Always stay on the right side of wife.
Obviously, a nacho chip[edit | edit source]
In a weak effort to add content to an otherwise unremarkable article, bilge pumps were set to maximum spewledge and boy, the bells were ringing that day. Let me tell you. A curry house on every corner and a Meteor in every pot. That is, if the pot were pitted, and the pitting puts a pitch to the rasping.
During peacetime, of course, the army would stand down, and there'd be a lot of card playing. Non-commissioned officers would wear paper dresses. Would the world finally see the irony of the phrase, "breast enhancement surgery"?