Hiding from people at parties is my cardio.

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I don’t know. “Your goose is cooked” seems like a positive. Like someone saying, “Hey, dinner’s ready. We’re having goose.”


Tonight’s flirtation brought to you by the letter Booze.

It’s a word? Whatever, man. I don’t know algebra and shit.


[zoom interview]

interviewer: what’s your background?

me: mainly sales and marketing but—

interviewer: no, I’m talking about that framed poster of the lady bunny from space jam


Please stop sending me sexy photos of yourselves, ladies. You’re distracting me while I try to read this book on reverse psychology.


[walking in on boyfriend]

me: oh god

him: it’s not what it looks like!

me: how could you do this to me?!

him: i’m so sorry you had to find out this way

me: *falling to my knees* my leftoverssss


Thank you autocorrect for changing “we met in person” to “we met in prison”. This is going to be a wonderful family dinner. I can just feel it.


I care more about the outcome of sporting events than any other aspect of human existence.


What I say: it’s time for bed

What my child hears: you have been sentenced to life in prison with no parole