You can smell yourself, even after a shower.
Your dreams resemble a Busby Berkeley version of Saw III.
The cats are like, “damn girl, you sleep too much, yo.”
Not having chills or the sweats makes you want to do a little dance.
Sunlight burns your delicate eyes.
You’ve watched enough episodes of “Emergency Vets” that you start contemplating checking your cats’ bowels and drilling surgical holes in your turtles.
Ha ha ha! That crazy Hobbes is taking Calvin to a land of dolphins in the clouds!
If I ever find that “Gypsy” who invented this “Cold Care” tea, it’s on, motherfuckers.
What the hell time is it?