I hope Rick Santorum was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning he breaks his legs, and every afternoon he break his arms. At night, he lies awake in agony until his heart attacks put him to sleep.
I hope Rick Santorum tries to finish the sentence “What I learned in boating school is…” to earn his extra credit and pass his boating exam, but he can’t think of three more words.
I hope Rick Santorum is fighting what he believes to be the Alaskan Bull Worm but then he finds out it’s just the tongue and the whOLE THING is the worm.
I hope Rick Santorum is trapped in the Flying Dutchman’s ship and the only way out is through the… perfume department.