The Cellar: Dealing on the agony within.

Have we done this yet?

The Cellar: We spit on your soul.
var: Spitting on your soul since 1990.

The Cellar: A Little Song, A Little Dance, A Little Seltzer Down Your Pants

The Cellar: I Couldn't Help but Notice That You Have a Little Dog-a Poopie on Your Shoes

The Cellar: Not Subject to the Third Law of Thermodynamics

The Cellar: Our Foam Does Not Peel Off During Launch

The Cellar: If This is My Thermometer, Then Where is My Pen?!

The Cellar: Wobbles But Does Not Fall Down

The Cellar: Comfortably Numb

The Cellar: But Wait...That's Not All! Order Now, and Receive *Double* Your Order of Insight!

The Cellar : A very cool smorgasbord.

The Cellar: Gyring and Gimbling in the Wabe

And keeping in the theme, a take on one I saw on Richlevy's button site:

The Cellar: The Mome Rath Hasn't Lived That Could Outgrabe Us

The Cellar: We'd let Andrea Yates babysit our kids.

The Cellar: If you think we stink, you should get a whiff of Jim McGreavey's cock.

oohhh! that one's mine! I should have added: *grabs crotch* to the end of it...

The Cellar: The Other Musical Fruit

The Cellar: You gotta love it. Otherwise, fuck off.

Good one. Made me laugh out loud.

The Cellar: Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, we're so glad you could attend, come inside, come inside.

The Cellar is to Nick Nolte as _______ is to Gary Busey.

The Cellar: We made Steve Guttenberg a star.