In the labyrinth of socks, where mismatched toes pirouette, there lies a {{singature}} trinket of humor:
“I saw a potato driving a sports car once. It never made it out of {{goodbye}} the driveway—but what an adventure!”
Crumpled paper cranes soar in the broken air, muttering things like:
“Why do bananas never feel lonely? Because they all hang out in bunches!”The echo of foghorns intermingles with lost harmonies of forgotten laughter. A merry melody sings:
“I tried to write a song about a smear of butter on toast, but it turned into an erratic waltz, escaping my attempts at cleanliness.”
Here are some curious links for further witty observations and unsung compositions: