Larry Dickman

Three golf clubs walk into a bar.

The putter orders a beer.

The wedge orders a tequila.

The third one says, "Nothing for me. I'm the driver".

Spot on, Mr. Rather. 🎯 💯

That’s all well and good but I see at least seven OSHA violations.

Or be elected to Congress and make a fuck ton of coin.

I say this is as sports fan and borderline gambling degenerate: I could give zero fucks about the World Cup.

Also running the risk of Justin Jefferson hurting his hand when he eventually punches JJ in the face.

This all 22 camera nbc is using is making my dick itch.

My nipples hate this weather.

“Gambling is illegal at Bushwood.”

Dry ice level.

Did the Vikings sign Wentz on purpose?

"Cal Raleigh" is also an ACC rivarly now.

Tomlin vs Wentz is our eff you to Ireland for staying neutral during dubya dubya two.

There’s no way he doesn’t eventually coach the Cowboys. The marriage of stupidity is too great to ignore.

Both things can be true.

Call it a wash.

Here’s a thought: stand up to him.

If you think Trump deploying troops in American cities is nothing more than an opportunity to pivot to a completely different subject, you do not belong in Democratic leadership.

Mmmmmm mmmm mmmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmmm

Keep it tight. Just like my lady likes it.

I thought it was about Burt Reynolds and Jerry Reed delivering a shit ton of beer.

If you see here, ask her if she still has my box of used q-tips. I need those for a first communion this weekend!

I never would thought 20 years ago we’d be living in a society where servers still ask you if Pepsi is okay.

I don’t need “Marry Me chicken” or “funeral cake.” I need “kick me in the balls fettuccine Alfredo.”

I was already in Dutch with the CEO for calling his wife a c-nt during their grandson’s bris.

In retrospect, “which one of you c-cksuckers ate my banana” was unwise to send as a company-wide email.

High Life goes well with food. At a ballgame. At the reading of the will of an emotionally unstable but sexually attractive aunt. All those types of things.

Ahhh, too good for Miller High Life, eh? Serves ya right, Mr. Rockefeller.