Rob Gunther

This weekend is Father’s Day, and I’d like to give a shout out, to all the dads out there, yeah, but actually I’m thinking of one dad in particular: Mitt Romney.

People think I’m being a little crazy, everyone’s telling me that it’s all in my head, that my house isn’t haunted. They’re only partially right..?

Worst case scenario, you can just add some Ranch to a glass of water, it’s usually enough to keep me going.

Serious question.

And I was terrified. Like sitting there, sweating bullets, looking around at all my classmates, unable to understand how they were all just smiling, watching TV, all while I was trying my best to keep it together, to not freak out and start screaming.

But I can’t commit.

It’s officially summer now, right? I mean, I can’t tell you the exact date off of the top of my head, but Memorial Day to Labor Day, that’s basically the unofficial summer season

I just wish that every once in a while the bank would make an error in my favor, just like in Monopoly…

You’ll get someone every now and then who simply doesn’t get it, you’ll hear arguments that satire is more than just provoking everybody in an effort to appeal to nobody. But it’s not.

It brings out the worst in me, in the guests, in my co workers.

I open up a new Word document and my wrist automatically directs the mouse to the bullet point button.

This is why it’s great to order first at a steak place.