A hideous mess of wry irony, temptingly festering satire, and small sad pixies wearing g-strings. If you've a crisp one-liner, dry witticism or immaculately impressive image that you believe should have a home here, e-mail it to luiciphier@sublimenuit.com and we'll cast it into the morass. Probably.
20 Jul 2005
How?
An Indian goes into a fancy restaurant and the Maitre'd asks the Indian, "Do you have a reservation?"
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