“And then she kissed the frog and saw him turn into a prince, because kissing frogs makes you hallucinate.”
-me as a babysitter
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Me: oh look, there’s keith, don’t say anything, but he’s obsessed with doors. Oh, hi keith.
Keith: Shut it.
ME: I’m afraid I don’t have enough to make rent. Maybe there’s some *bites my bottom lip seductively*…. other sort of arrangement we can come up with.
FRIEND: Dude, this is why no one likes playing Monopoly with you.
What’s that Hitchcock movie with all the birds in it? The Man Who Flew Too Much? To Hatch a Thief? Suspigeon? Birdigo?
my biggest wish is that someday a bunch of people will say wow money really changed her
*puts up baby gates all around the outside of my house*
There. That should keep ’em out.
Whenever someone tells me “make yourself at home” at their house, I always clog their toilet
When the doctor asks you ‘How are you feeling today?’ sexy is not an appropriate answer apparently.
Colleagues confronted me about my terrible similes. Like crows trapped in a Smucker’s jar, I’d have to murder my way out of yet another jam.
Don’t “pshhh” me, you stupid bus.
Son: Dad, you work so hard and never get any credit. You’re like a superhero!
Dad: Nice try. You’re still not getting the Internet password.
If you’re in a wheelchair and you say your date stood you up, it’s unclear to me whether your night was lousy or remarkable.
People who prefer ketchup over mustard are annoying because as soon as you say you like mustard, they go on and on about how much they hate it. Like, okay. You have the same flavor palette you had when you were 5 but that doesn’t mean you should insult what I put in my coffee.
Fun tip:
Go to carnivals, scatter nuts and bolts around rides to cut down on wait times.
*thumbs up*
Happy weekend !
[normal life]
ive worn the same shirt everyday for a week
[packing for vacation]
hmmm. i’ll prob change a few times a day so thats…32 shirts
me: babe come quick
wife: what?
me: just hurry
wife: no, it’s always something dumb
me: not this time
*wife walks into living room*
me: i put the dog in a suit
wife: i want a divorce
me: k but my lawyer’s a ruff negotiator
There’s a bag of Hersey’s chocolate in the kitchen.
I’ve been smothering myself with kisses.
Kids be like “I didn’t know where this heavy roasting pan went so I put it on top of a structurally unsound pile of tupperware.”
You ever just look at your spouse and KNOW they’re the one you want to fall asleep really soon so you don’t have to share your pizza rolls with?
I know two wrongs don’t make a right, obviously. But how many does it take? I’m like on 756.
i have locked myself in the bathroom. do not ask me how it happened. because i don’t have that information. hopefully. my stuffed fren sebastian. has already called. the proper authorities
Do yourself a favour: get a dog. Before I got a dog I was ridiculed for walking around with a bag of shit
Seeing all the praise for Conan it’s time I told my own special Conan story. Years ago I first saw Conan. He was funny and I liked him. Then he kept being funny and I was like hell yeah I really like him. Later I found out it wasn’t just me, Conan did this with many other people.
And then God said, “Let there be Black Friday.” and he saw that it was a terrible idea but it was too late cuz people were already in line.
I’m “had to actually call a girl on the home phone to ask her out while hoping my mom didn’t pick up and start dialing” years old.
Me: I can’t wait for this pandemic to be over so I can go back to hanging out in person with friends, visiting relatives, showering every day…
Her: Nothing is stopping you from showering every day now.
Me: Do you even hear how crazy you sound right now?
The true mark of maturity is when somebody hurts you, and you try to understand them in order to best tailor a revenge plot that suits them.
me at a party:
*eats*
.
.
.
*attempts to calculate the socially acceptable amount of time before going back to graze on the spread*
.
.
.
*repeat for duration of party*
.
.
.
*make sure to stop by the food one last time before saying goodnight to all*
.
.
.
*go back once more*
me: how old is your baby?
her: 46 weeks
me, struggling w/the math: may i offer him a beer?