An axe is a sharp, blunt object. Most infamously, it is the weapon used by Lizzie Borden to kill her parents.
To this day, an axe can be used as weapon by either crazy people on farms, or lumberjacks.
Axe is a noun. It is not, nor will ever be, a verb.

Sincerely,
People who speak real languages.

We aren’t staring at your tits, we’re trying to decipher what you possibly could have found witty or relatable enough to spend your money on that shirt. I’m already disappointed by the fact that it’s stupid, you don’t have to kick me while I’m down with a “Whatchu starin at, I’m up here!” comment. I know where you are.

Sincerely,
The people who are no longer there.

Stop.

Sincerely,

All non-deaf people.

You can’t be shooting stars. You just fucking can’t. Not only do they not exist, but they are well beyond the rhelms of our atmosphere. That, and shooting stars don’t kill people, contain diseases, cost a billion dollars in fuel, destroy islands to prove a point, and they are not catalysts for terrorist attacks.
I actually don’t know why we started wishing on shooting stars when we had you in the first place.

Sincerely,
Someone who doesn’t like music anymore.

The Z in your name doesn’t make you silly, nor does the fact that you have made the laws of rubber more obvious to a younger generation. You take up far too much space than what is deserved by replicating a tarnished elastic band, or serving as a hardly noteworthy shape of things we could all be viewing for ourselves if we weren’t too busy being distracted with these silly objects that clog up the anorexic arms of “If I put on a lot of eyeliner and cry, people will want to read my Livejournal.” middle school youth of America.

Sincerely,
Everyone that’s good enough to be included in the census.