Because he didn't want his daughters to be called Ms. Steaks.
Because baggers can't be choosers.
I want some raspberries, not the tears of Jesus.
Cuz they got tired of Stalin.
The mall is hiring new Santas.
While I stroked his thigh with a knife.
The steaks were getting too damn high.
Slow down and use lube.
Daughter: Looking at peckers. M: WHAT ! D: Science project on chickens. M: Oh. D: You walked RIGHT into that.