Oho! He must have stumbled upon the late, great Jane Ace:
Home wasn't built in a day.
Congress is back in season.
You could have knocked me over with a fender.
He had me up at the crank of dawn.
Time wounds all heels.
Now, there's no use crying over spoiled milk.
I'm completely uninhabited.
After all, I am his awfully-wedded wife.
I've always wanted to see my name up in tights.
I look like the wrath of grapes.
I wasn't under the impersonation you meant me.
He shot out of here like a bat out of a belfry.
He has me sitting on pins and cushions waiting.
The coffee will be ready in a jitney.
I'm a member of the weeper sex.
I don't drink, I'm a totalitarian.
Well, you've got to take the bitter with the better.
Come to think of it, her husband, Goodman---who wrote several of her vintage malaprops (for their classic radio show, Easy Aces, though he swore she really did talk that way)---was good for a few million laughs.
Distant relative, in a telegram: Send $10,000 or I'll jump from the fourteenth story of my building!
Goodman Ace, wiring back: Jump from seven. I can only afford $5,000.