*Listening to red hot chili peppers*
Me: You call that music? I can’t even hear anything!
Worker: Sir, stop putting produce to your ear.
Bee: I got a stinger bro!
Dung beetle: Nice! [enters gods office] Sorry I’m late. Whats my special power?
God: [clearly annoyed] Eating shit
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Me: how about a sexy rendezvous?
Him: did you just pronounce it ren-dezz-vuss?
Me: we’re texting
Him: I heard it
“I don’t want to make a spectacle…”
Eye glass manufacturers last day on the job.
The 80s gave me the unrealistic expectation that I would eventually see a mannequin come to life.
REPORTER: still feel it was a good idea to spend all $80 million of your lottery winnings on this?
ME: [using my 28 surgically added hands to pet 30 dogs at once] yes
[a 31st dog walks by]
ME: oh no
WRITER FRIEND: I’m stuck on this plot point
ME: tell me more
WRITER FRIEND: *gives me a summary*
WRITER FRIEND: OH SHIT I JUST FIGURED OUT EVERYTHING
*At my future wedding* “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband”
Me to the groupchat: omg do I say yes or is that desperate
“Eat your dinner so that lamb didn’t die for nothing” – will ensure you get your daughter’s helping, too.
When the mosquito landed on my face, it was one of the easier decisions of the day for my wife.
“Oh, you’re left handed?” – people who see me writing with my left hand, curious if I’m just doing it for show