I thought twerking was tweeting at work
That’s how out of the loop I am
everyone says “writers don’t matter” until two guys with no clue how to tell a story are tasked with bringing an end to your favorite show.
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*kids running down the stairs*
DADDY, DADDY, I HEARD TOYS BUZZING IN YOUR ROOM AND MOMMY SAY, “SANTA CAME EARLY THIS YEAR.”
He told me he was my daddy during sex. Then he acted all weirded out when I started crying and asked him to pay off my student loans.
THERAPIST: How does that make you feel?
ME: “Mphh mophh wampph.”
T: Again, this works better if you don’t lie face down on the couch.
wife: Don’t be an idiot
me: IT’S NOT A CHOICE, SARAH
Meet Brian, my monkey butler. He’s gonna help out around the office.
*Monkey flinging office equipment out the window*
Brian hates clutter.
Paid a mime fifty bucks to follow me around for a day and do the jerk off motion every time I speak.
I will be celebrating Columbus Day by setting sail for India, landing in Spain, and telling everyone who lives there to move out.
I bought a keg and bagels today. That’s what kegel is, right?
Shouldn’t women have a girlnecologist?