[at a funeral home]

ME: One death please

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cop: we’d like to ask you some questions
me: I want to see my lawyer
cop: you’re not a suspect
me: I know. I just miss her.


I would be morbidly obese if food for thought was an actual thing.


I’m most like a dog when after someone has hurt me I won’t get too close to them again.

Also when I’m eating food that fell on the floor.


Just gave this idiot a thumbs up for cutting me off, and I think I might not understand road rage.


It’s funny how—especially in small towns—we think of lit porch lights as a symbol of welcoming. I leave mine on so the guy who paints himself purple won’t steal any more of my chairs.


One time I swallowed an entire box of Alphabits whole and the only thing I pooped out was the lyrics to a Nicki Minaj song


You can tell a lot by a guy’s teeth.
For instance, if they’re three feet long, that’s no man; that’s a hippo.


*son walks in as mom hides her urban dictionary word-of-the-day calendar*
Mom: How was school?
Son: ok
Mom: Had a real trill lunch with Nona


This new diet is awesome: I can eat all the donuts I want and die happy.


@funTweeters TIL:The phrase “I plead the fifth” comes from the minimum volume of alcohol one can blame for committing the alleged infraction