Eat them, but only after adding some crickets.
Not notice that you had any mashed potatoes, as you could not smell them over your own stench.
Use them to spackle together an ill-contrived wall hanging.
Poison them, smother in delicious gravy and leave out for the next person to happen by.
Place them in a little box, name them "Harold" and take them on your next trip to the Himalayas.
I think I have some friends, but they are never around for some reason.
I have many people who think I am their friend but I really don't like them that much.
I do not need friends because I have an army of minions to do my bidding.
Everyone in the world is my friend, and also the little bugs and dirt.
I have plenty of friends, but for some reason they are always offering to hold a garage sale for me.
You mean my real coffee mug, or the one I use to beat people over the head with? That one's metal.
I have a different coffee mug for every day, with an inspirational statement, such as "You're only here because you're AWESOME!"
I can no longer tell what it looks like, underneath all of the grime that has gathered on the surface.
I do not drink coffee, or use mugs. I prefer to stick my face in a lovely stream, surrounded by little bugs.
It is studded with the most beautiful rhinestones, which stick up over the edge, and has a giant tassel that sometimes gets in the coffee.
Telling an inappropriate joke in the middle of a little league game.
Blowing a dandelion puff and watching as it sails away into the wind.
Giving a dissertation on compiling the world's resources and selling them back to the poor people at exorbitant prices.
Replacing all regular pens with purple feathered pens with purple glitter ink.
Going to the bathroom. To flush someone's wallet down the toilet.
Anything by Martha Stewart.
The Drudge Report
Any magazine will do, for I will only use it as kindling under your house.
I do not need to read, for I have many stories in my head.
My crocheted toaster oven cover.
My parachute. You never know when you might need one.
My jar of deadly spiders.
My favorite old good luck blanket which I never wash.
Now I can measure appropriate distance for letting you see me gloat over your car's explosion while not getting my eyebrows singed.
I now know the length of fabric I need in order to sew a new pair of my patented Shag Carpet Pants!
I can glue little arms and legs to it, and draw a happy face, and I'll finally have someone to talk to!
If I had 500,000 of them, I could go to the African village of Kiputtyroo and build them a bridge across their river of raw sewage.
Well, we need someone to tell everyone else what to do.