My refrigerator has an excessive amount of leftovers for someone that eats as much as I do.
At my age, “getting lucky” means being able to find my car in the parking lot.
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[Asking someone out]
Um…so do you want to come to my exorcism next week?
I once lip locked the soft ice dispenser at Dairy Queen until the manager had to hit me with a mop. So I know a little bit about rejection.
In my experience, the quickest way to escape Jury Duty? As they read out the charges, yell out, “Oh c’mon…even I’ve done THAT!”
Me: I love these lazy Sundays.
Boss: It’s Tuesday. Get off my couch and out of my office. And for Christ’s sake, put some clothes on!
I use awkward numerical range description anywhere between 13 and 4 times a day.
*sees a guy snap fingers at a server. I reach for my bag*
Wife: No. We only have one left. We have a baby.
Me: (to genie) take his fingers
My boss asked me for a brief word. I said “underpants?” and we laughed and laughed and I’m clearing out my desk.
They should make 9-1-2 a number you can call when it’s not quite an emergency but you still need to vent.
“Hello, Operator? Yeah, there’s a bird on my car… No, I’m in the house, but I can see him through the window.”