[the purge alarm blares in the distance]
ME: *adds a 13th item in the express line at the grocery store*
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[at library]
ME: Yes, I’d like to Czech out a book on eastern Europe.
LIBRARIAN: 3rd floor
ME: Get it?
L: This is dialog, I’m not reading it
IKEA is the swedish word for “relationship meltdown in a public place.”
ME: *staring into my lover’s eyes in the midst of a warm embrace*
HER: What are you thinking?
ME: *caressing her cheek* I forgot your name.
Do you have any motivational books?
Yeah, they’re in the back.
(long pause) Do you have any that are closer?
If there’s a kid acting like an adult in your ad I will not buy your product and I’ll buy your competitor’s product even if I don’t need it.
[Morgan Freeman narrating my life]
*extended period of silence*
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this…”
Me: so I’ve been a little unclear regarding everything you’ve asked me to do since Monday
Boss: Jesus
Me: let me finish. In February. 2011.
Yesterday there was a sign in our building lobby saying that a possum was living in our trash cans. This morning the sign was gone.
Best case scenario: The possum relocated overnight.
Worst case scenario: The possum took down the sign itself
Girlfriend: “Does this dress make me look fat?”
Me: “Stop blaming the dresses.
I’m my own worst enemy. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So I’m also my best friend
I think LGBT sounds too much like a sandwich.
I’ve cleaned the entire house so no one is allowed to live here anymore.
My man wants me to understand him better so I’m not getting my mustache waxed this month.
Are we there yet?…
Sales of wood-chippers have gone way up as the quarantine has continued. That makes sense on farms, but most buyers are apartment dwellers.
It’s hard to overstate the pressure and anxiety I feel when a stray ball comes onto the sidelines at my feet and the Pee-Wee coach and all the six-year olds look at me as if to say “surely you, a grown man, can accurately kick that ball back to the ref while everyone watches.”
Oops, I ate my feelings again.
~ a memoir
I. FORGOT.
I. FORGOT.
I lost my dad with a cart full of ginger ale and sweet potato chips at a grocery store and found him arguing about focaccia bread with a manager in case you were wondering how white my parents are.
waiter: do you have any allergies?
me: latex
waiter: I mean is there anything you can’t eat
me: airplanes
GENIE: You can’t wish anybody would fall in love with you.
ME: What if everybody just disliked me less?
GENIE: Sure.
ME:
GENIE:
ME:
GENIE: Okay technically I should be able to do this but it’s not working.
I love Trader Joe’s but really wish they had parking lots instead of parking littles
[Jesus is resurrected after 3 days]
Mary Magdalene: I KNOW YOU SAW MY TEXTS
“A computer keyboard has more bacteria than a toilet seat.” I don’t doubt it, given the shit my boss sends us in email.
*literally any business fails*
journalist: ahh yes, the millennials
[at the grocery store] yes i would like one grocery please
Him: sex tonight?
Me: Work put me in a bad mood
Him: tomorrow?
Me: I have a headache tomorrow
Had my mom call me to get out of a meeting, but now I’m stuck in a call with my mom
my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard / their like, is this organic? do u hav a vegan option? can u make it with froyo insted
DAD: Sorry it’s not a pony, honey. Best I could do
LITTLE GIRL: [riding gigantic earthworm] This is Princess Doomtube. She shall be feared