(Boyfriend reaches for an old Target bag to line the trash can)


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The five stages of Sunday: depression, anger, bargaining, acceptance, HBO


I put my pants on just like everybody else, by getting my toes caught in the knee hole hopping around and ultimately taking out a lamp on my way down.


Accidentally ate the sticker on my apple. This wouldn’t have happened if it had been a Snickers.


Shopping for bridesmaid dresses with 5 other women, today. If you never hear from me again, I committed suicide by nail file.


I’m always just a bit disappointed when a liars pants don’t actually catch on fire.


[my first day as an art teacher]

“before u start drawing let your eyes linger over the subject”

(it’s a dead bullfrog dressed as a cowboy)


me: [offering joint] wanna hit


me: nvm ur already high lol


scientist: we’ve never seen a giraffe eat a human before


“You’re more likely to be killed in a car wreck than eaten by a shark.”

The shark made a convincing argument, so I got out of the cage.