There is no such thing as an antique car. An antique car is a horse.
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Everyone’s a gangsta until you make eye contact with a stranger whilst shoveling tacos in your face.
Me: Hello darkness, my old friend
Darkness: *rolls eyes*
Horse buying tip: ALWAYS ask how much horsepower a horse has. If a horse has less than one horsepower, you’ve got yourself a crap horse.
A city girl was bequeathed an inn, but it’s all run down and doesn’t have any water and the only person in town for the holidays is the ruggedly handsome guy who just lost his wife
[trying to stop my toddler’s tantrum in a restaurant]
*harsh whisper* If you don’t cut it out right now then there’s nothing else I can do
Being brave is overrated.
Just run away, screaming, like a normal human being.
Babies are 60% water, I can walk on babies, therefore I am 60% jesus
Video Games made me do it.
Rock n’ Roll made me do it.
Witches made me do it.
Satan made me do it.– a short history of responsibility
Real life dad college courses
Garage law
Power nap philosophy
Nosy neighbor studies
Barbecue physics
Zipper theory of merging traffic
Thermostat dynamics
KIM KARDASHIAN: Elane you GOTA see the BABY
ELANE: I follow you on instagram. Im gona see it
[Masterchef]
Gordon Ramsay: describe the dish
Me: *proudly* ceramic, chef
The 9th rule of fight club is no roller skates. honestly guys I don’t know why we keep having to say this.
I confused the words “tinker” and “tinkle” and my neighbor no longer wants help with her computer.
When I’m elected Pope, pants will be optional.
(at least for me)
(and that won’t really be a change from what I do now)
*gets arrested
*mug shot posted
*waits for modeling contract
By today’s standards the butts in Sir Mix-a-Lot’s video weren’t really that big.
He liked medium butts.
So he lied.
[wife who bought regular paper towels instead of the select a size paper towels] what’s wrong? [me trying to clean a small to medium sized spill] nothing
[listening to the neighbors argue through the walls]: mmw mmwm wmmw mwm mwwmm wwmw
mwm wmmwm wwmw mmwm
mwwm mmw mmwm mwwm mwmwm
me: oh stephanie you’re better than this
My daughter complained we were out of snacks so I lifted the couch cushions.
It’s six. Six raccoons. Six raccoons is the amount of raccoons that will make me turn around and walk down a different street. Six.
OK THERE. DID I PASS YOUR STUPID SOBRIETY TEST YET?
Cop: Sir, you’re still laying on the ground where you fell down.
Hey whatcha eating?
“A pluot”
Wtf is a pluot?
“A cross between a plum & an apricot”
That’s really stupid.
*rides off on a liger*
Me: Is there any particular way you don’t want your name pronounced?
Percy: Not per se
Don’t let people push you around. Unless it’s in a wagon, because that shit is fun!
manure salesmen ask ”do you want flies with that?”
[driving home in silence]
Wife: ok, I’m sorry
Me: too late
Wife: you do quite a lot of them though
Me: no, apparently I “overuse” them
Wife: …
Me: there’s no such thing as overusing roundhouse kicks, Linda, especially at parties
Wife: funeral
I saw on a package of condoms they had a money back guarantee. So how does that work? Do I just mail the baby to them?
*walks around revolving door for 3 hours while staring down at phone*
Billy Joel’s Friend: bill i hate that we’ve kept this from you, but.. we started the fire
Billy Joel: and you just LET me write that song?
Born to be mild.