I made a bacon sandwich this morning then managed to drop it on my white t-shirt. Luckily nobody was using the washing machine. That’s where I keep my emergency bacon.
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When I die, before my will is read, I want my entire Google search history revealed and whoever is left in the room gets it all.
Stop putting cauliflower where there once was something delicious.
My 5yo asked me to show him how high I can jump in case you’re wondering why I’ll be limping tomorrow.
Whoever made this compilation of Mel Blanc screaming in different cartoons is a saint.
[Inventing octopus]
God: 8 arms
Angel: okayyyy
G: with suckie things
A: and-
G: Mouth like a parrot, shoots ink
A: wtf
G: …I ate mushrooms
Okay hear me out.
I cooked up bacon in my cast iron, then made sausage patties in the bacon grease, and THEN made gravy out of the bacon AND sausage grease.
I’d marry me
two guys fighting over oars are just having a row it took me 3 hours to write this crap send tweet
[first day as diving instructor]
Guy [from the back]: what’s the signal for a shark
Me: sharks don’t really give signals they just show up
Brain: Follow your heart
Heart: Go with your gut
Gut: Pick the grilled cheese
Wait til the people so excited about all-day breakfast at McDonald’s find out they can make breakfast at home whenever they want.
If you replace phrase “Americans think” with “Americans with landlines who answer unsolicited calls think” it all makes so much more sense.
Why aren’t there more Christmas songs about revenge?
Me: oh yeah, obviously I want to keep it casual, too
Also me, a year after it ends: *crying to a David Gray song in my car*
therapist: what do you see
me: Snoopy
therapist: this one?
me: Charlie Brown trying to kick a football
therapist: I see. and now?
me: Lucy moved the ball
therapist: wtf this is the wrong book
Me: What’s for dinner?
Shawn: Prawns
Shaun: Prauns
Sean: Preans
Since instagram is down I’m not sure if there was a sunrise today or if anyone ate any food? I feel lost.
My favourite kid I ever taught when I was a swim teacher was this little 4-year-old Italian boy. One time he sneezed and nobody said anything so he just went “what? No bless yous for Giacomo?”
At the end of Ratatouille, the food critic, Anton Ego, ends up funding a small bistro for Remy to cook in.
The avg lifespan for a rat (ie THE HEAD CHEF) is 1.8 years.
This is an absolute shit investment.
I need to do some tidying up around here so I’ll start with finishing this box of wine to free up some counter space
Me: They say this virus is dangerous for older people
My grandfather: It’s a Grampademic
Me:
My grandfather: The Grampacalypse
Me:
My grandfather: Grandmageddon
One of my favourite places to find a giggle @funTweeters timeline ☺
When I’m old, I’m gonna giggle uncontrollably, squirm, and go all sack of potatoes on my son when he tries to get me in the car as payback.
I keep a knife & cream cheese in my pockets in case i’m attacked by somebody with a plain bagel
apartment hunting is so sick. landlords are like hey we need you to hand-submit an application to our friend gary. he lives in a treacherous swamp. he will run a credit check and ask for a lock of your hair. 1st months rent is due on move in. please mail a money order to florida
If you ever feel unattractive, just remember that you look like your ancestors, and Hey, All of them got laid.
My wife’s driver license should say “Brain Donor” because she gives me a piece of her mind daily.
Nothing is more terrifying than your wife walking into a room you were just in and yelling “Can you come here for a minute please?”
Eddie is one of our desert tortoises. If you don’t push the door shut all the way, he will open it and come in. Eddie is probably over 50 years old, and ours is at least the third house in our neighborhood he’s lived at.
My daughter informed me in another life she would have been a courtesan or a serial killer…
I asked why not both? And she replied, good point…
…a woman shouldn’t have to give up her hobby for her career.
FITBIT: You’ve done 11k steps today.
ME: Ok, I’ll rest some.
FITBIT: stop now and I’ll murder you
ME: What?
FITBIT: I SAID GOOD FOR YOU!