A death metal song about an Excel spreadsheet not doing what I want.
You Might Also Like
A man reading a thesaurus saunters into a tavern.
Expecting Parents,
PLEASE
I beg you
Please look at what your child’s name will be spelled backwards.Sincerely,
Marlana
it be like that
Nobody:
My 6yr old talking to himself on the toilet: everyday I gotta get up for school. & then everyday I’m gonna have to get up for work. When does it end. Did I ask for this? No. I don’t remember that I asked for this. I asked for rest and legos and French toast.
The neighbor kid talks a lot of shit for someone who isn’t allowed to leave the yard.
Same post same
What if animals “were” injured in the making of a film. Do they list that in the credits? Tim hurt one monkey. He is very sorry.
ME: *dies*
DEATH: Welcome to the afterlife.
ME: How do I get to Heaven?
DEATH: *points* Go up those stairs.
ME: What about Hell?
DEATH: *points* Go down those stairs.
ME: And Limbo?
DEATH: *points* Just duck under that bar.
DOCTOR: If your wife doesn’t deliver the baby in one hour, we’ll do a c-section
ME: *setting timer* ᴱˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ʷᵒᵐᵇ
I try not to be loud in the office restroom stall unless my boss is in the restroom, because then I want to prove I’m not just goofing off.
The difference between a hippo and a zippo is that one is really heavy and the other is a little lighter. Thank you, g’nite.
english majors be like furthermore
So let me get this straight. A dude comes back to life after three days and no one cuts his head off?
The only thing more satisfying than doing big yard projects yourself is paying someone to do it while you occasionally watch out the window.
I remember when I was 14 I really wanted a ZX Spectrum. I did odd jobs, and saved up my pocket money and paper-round wages until eventually I had enough money to pay my cousin Dawn to steal one from Dixon’s
I like to refer to my psychiatrist as a “serotonin artist.”
Pro tip:
Don’t ever ask rhetorically; “what is wrong with me?” in front of your wife. I did this two days ago.
She’s still telling me.
[dunk tank baptism] *to little boy* you only have 3 chances or this clown doesn’t get into heaven
Reality called, I hung up. Not today Satan
I hate when recipes tell you to take something out of the pan and add it back in later. No way bro. It’s staying in there.
Maybe it’s love, or maybe she just can’t unclasp that damn bracelet on her wrist without help
me: dave and i go way back. we served together for 8 years
her: oh wow. army? navy?
me: olive garden
pretending to have read books in a conversation: setting yourself up for embarrassment, corny, ontologically evil?
saying “oh yeah never read it but i’ve heard really good things”: yo who is this mysterious woman who hears things? her informational ecosystem seems lowkey robust?
Yes I can still pop, lock and drop it*!
*pop my hip joint, it locks up and I drop to the floor*
“Mounting debt” sounds way sexier than it is.
I’d prob date Pete Davidson too if Instagram showed me a targeted ad for him more than 3x
Pro Tip: If you don’t have a mask, wearing a jock strap on your face tends to keep people at least 6 feet away from you.
Ate a bowl of Captain Crunch Berries this morning. With blatant disregard for the roof of my mouth.
-thug life
[waking up on sunday morning]
me: ugh, I can’t believe what I did last night
*looks around to see piles of perfectly folded laundry*
My best dating advice is to wait after you have two kids and a house before you tell her you speak elvish.