[cop taps on my fogged up car window on make-out hill]
ME: *alone holding a huge steamy bucket of fried chicken* what’s the problem officer
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You washed your hands? Be honest. Your hands washed each other, and you just watched like a sick freak.
“Please! There’s no need to interact with me. I’m just here to observe.”
-me in every social situation
My mom sometimes texts me pictures of Buddha or a nature scene with an inspirational message like,
“Be kind to others, Evil Lisa.”
This is an illustration of how dumb I am in the morning: I woke up yesterday to my “Alarm” on my phone and my first thought was “Aladdin is calling me”
Guy next to me at Mariners game didn’t stand for national anthem. Unpatriotic bastard. I should push his wheelchair down the stairs.
I don’t know who needs to hear this but by September you should already have your letter to Santa drafted.
Removing the pots and pans quietly in the morning is the adult version of Operation.
I’m no socialist but I do believe everyone is born with an inherent right to as many dipping sauces for their mcnuggets as they want.
waiter: would you like anything else ma’am?
me: yes please, a box for the leftovers that I will most definitely leave here on the table.
A marriage built on respect and trust can survive anything. Except losing twice as much weight on a diet than your wife, apparently.
this is the most chaotic energy iv ever seen
At my funeral the priest will throw my corpse into the crowd and whoever catches it will be the next to die
INSTRUCTIONS FOR FITTED SHEETS:
1) Know when to hold em.
2) Know when to fold em.
3) Know when to walk away.
4) Know when to run.
If you burned CDs for the car so your original copies wouldn’t get scratched, it’s time to schedule your colonoscopy.
The Macarena was just a tutorial on how to fold a sweater.
Just overheard my 87-year-old Dad speaking to my pooch:
“You’re seven years old? You look REALLY good for seven!”
me: how much gas do i have?
car: empty.
me: ok but HOW empty?
guys love flexing “i’m self made” so is amoeba what’s your point
[At the Rumble]
her *aggressively taking off earrings and heels*
me *desperately trying to find somewhere to set down my ice cream cone*
*brings coconut cake to a knife fight
THERAPIST: You’re cured.
ME: Really?!?
THERAPIST: No, of course not. How did that make you feel?
I told this cashier she kinda looked like Lorde, and as I was walking out, heard the lady behind me assure her she did not look like Jesus.
[in bed]
M: Do that thing I like
H: NO
M: Please?
H: *sighs [puts on British redcoat uniform] I have your tea
M: I WILL NEVER PAY YOUR TAXES
Bring your kids to work day was a huge success. One of the children fixed our server.
Son: Dad, is cousin Billy a mosquito?
Me: In Alabama?
S: Yeah.
M: Of course not. Why do you ask?
S: Mom said he was the product of insects.
[being pushed into the middle of a dance circle] please, I have a family
The “give me your tired, your poor” quote under the statue of liberty makes sense, because that’s the nyc lifestyle. “you’re already broke and exhausted? great. you’ll love it here.”
Wife: whats that?
Son: I painted a picture of a cat
Wife: it’s very good
Me: if it was very good you wouldn’t have needed to ask what it was
Boss: do you have Twitter?
Me: what’s twitter?
Boss: no seriously
Me: ……
Me: no hablo Inglés