Letterkenny

Pitter-patter, let’s get at ‘er.

If I was a Dr. Seuss book, I’d be The Fat in the Hat.

We only got one shot at this. One chance. One win. You know? Vomit on your mom’s spaghetti, or whatever that talking singer says.

You naturally care for a companionship, but I guess there’s a lot worse things than playing a little one man couch hockey in the dark.

If you have a problem with the majestic Canadian Goose, then you have a problem with me. And I suggest you let that one marinate.