which department at your work thinks they know everything but constantly screws things up and why is I.T.
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The worst part of being named Michael is repeatedly being broken up with via a text that states *drops Mike*
Just heard a dad threaten to spank his screaming son “in front of the world.” Stand your ground, kid. There’s no way he has that technology.
I forgot the word “vibrate” so I said I’d set my phone to purr.
[at Hooters]
Me: you shouldn’t be working here. you’re a human being
Waitress: look, it’s my choi-
Me: -seriously, where are the owl waiters
Axl Rose: Where do we go?
Me: Left
Axl: Where do we go now?
Me: Straight.
Axl: Oh, where do we go now?
Me: Damn it, Axl, let me drive!
[job interview]
BOSS: Describe yourself
ME: Can’t you see me?
I keep a banana in my pocket just in case, because I’m really not glad to see anybody.
Why there can’t be an Indian Breaking Bad.
A headline said the economy is showing signs of unexpected vigor so i’ll have what the economy is having please.
Rap: MONEY GUNS & SEX
Rock: DRUGS & SEX
Country: BEER GOD & SEX
Pop: PARTIES GIRLS & ALCOHOL
Dubstep: BWA BWA BABWAA
Sean Paul: SEAN PAUL!
[crime show]
DETECTIVE: It looks like the guy that inserts dramatic music into our show has been..*Flintstones theme song plays*
Murdered
So I said, “Why don’t you eat one of these fried cornbread balls,” and he said “hush puppie,” so I said, “You hush, you piece of shit,” and one thing led to another court date.
I don’t wear sunglasses because it’s unfair that a photon travels 93 million miles and then when it’s an inch from my eye I’m all “um, no.”
FRIEND: where do you work
ME: I can’t tell you
FRIEND: really? like it’s top secret?
ME [unemployed]: correct
Schrödinger’s Mom: You have to feed the cat
Schrödinger: Or do I?
Me: *pretending to smoke a hotdog like a cigar
Passport photographer: No
“I can’t feel my legs”
–mermaids
My husband and I are very compatible.
He’s a problem solver and I have lots of them.
I am NOT a grammar Nazi!
I’m alt-write.
*grabs walmart intercom*
WHY DID YOU LET ME GRAB THIS INTERCOM? I DON’T EVEN WORK HERE
*fighting noises*
YOU’RE GONNA LOSE YOUR JOB
me: so you want to give me a bunch of shit in exchange for my soul?
satan: yup
me: even though it’s lookin like i’m gonna be down there when i die anyway
satan: you got it
me: …are you just like bored or something? what is this?
*kneels to pray*
“Hello, God?”
“YOU’VE REACHED CUSTOMER SUPPORT.”
“Who is this?”
“MY NAME IS BRAD.”
“Are you in Heaven, Brad?”
“NO, INDIA.”
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My daughter mockingly told me about Winemaking 101, a class her university offers. I surely hope she won’t mind bumping into me on campus.
Hell, it’s the 70s all over again. Cheap gas, shaggy hair and no where to go
Let’s get married and have kids so instead of relaxing during weeknights we can go to seven practices and relearn algebra.
This all started with Meghan’s friend setting her up on a blind date with Prince Harry. My friends are actually useless.
Sorry I was cleaning my phone screen and accidentally took 37 selfies.
My 8yo daughter said people are hoarding toilet paper so they can hug it and use it as a stress reliever, and my 6yo son said that it’s more likely they’re all making forts out of toilet paper to protect them from COVID-19. Idk… forts, probably.
Fun fact: it’s impossible to try to kiss your own neck without looking like you’ve had a stroke