The trick to sneaking a mug full of vodka is to occasionally blow on it like it’s hot.
*holds finger up and chews for like 8 minutes after aunt asks me how I’ve been*
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Him: I have feelings for you.
Me: I’d rather you have cake for me.
ME: Can you have it fixed by Friday?
ABACUS REPAIR GUY: I wouldn’t count on it.
ME: I know. How about Friday?
HER: I’d really like to have sextuplets
ME: Oh wow, me too!
ME: Yeah, but why did you call me “tuplets”?
It’s so obvious that she wants me. She avoids me at all costs probably because her feelings are so strong for me.
Yeah, I’ll go with that.
*goes to grocery store*
*puts picture of my missing keys on all the milk cartons*
Hmmm, why don’t we try reincarnation. Here, take this razor blade and I’ll leave you alone for a few moments…
-me as a therapist
me, as a child: *walks into the kitchen covered in my own blood holding a rabbit I fought from a hawk*
my mom, on the phone: *mouthing* I’m on the phone
[at pet store]
“This tortoise’s shell keeps going soft. Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, it happens. It’s just a reptile dysfunction.”
I’m still not a member of Jem and the Holograms and that is truly truly truly outrageous.