Husband: You said you’d work out with me today, but you’re just sitting on the couch.
Me: I’m getting plenty of exercise RUNNING my mouth!
Him: …
Me: …
Him: …
Me: RUNNING my mouth. You know, like R-
Him: I’m gonna agitate a wasp’s nest and lock you outside
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I won’t believe we’ve evolved as humans until no one ever bites the inside of their cheeks again.
“I don’t know who you are, but I will find you and I will kill you and – oh sorry, wrong number.” – Liam Neeson in Mistaken
Maybe my threats will be more effective if, after I mentioned all the people I’ve killed, I don’t say, “in RuneScape.”
Damn girl, are you a desk? Cause I’m not exactly sure how to pick you up
YUCKING OTHER PEOPLE’S YUM IS VERY UNBECOMING
911: What’s your emergency?
Me: Whatcha dooooin’?
911: Sir, are you in danger?
Me: *giggles* You’re always so worried, but I’m fine, silly
I wasted too much money on three pairs of purple camouflage pants.
My ideal weight is five million dollars
[trapped under avalanche of Tupperware that fell on me from kitchen cabinet]
*updates social media with selfie*
Bring food,
No weirdos.
My boss says I’m not allowed to begin work emails saying “listen, you stupid f****rs” anymore
Me: This guy *slides photo across table* I want you to shoot him in the leg
Hitman: This is a photo of you
Me: My wife wants me to try zumba
How do you end an argument with a woman?
Tell her to calm down.
You’re dead now but the argument is over.
I strongly condemn the ritual sacrifice of children to Satan.
It is morally wrong and, in my experience, completely ineffective.
Me, wet, shrunken, laying in front of the interrupted washing machine, breathlessly clutching a voodoo doll: FOUND IT
Never underestimate an underachiever. We’re capable of less than you think.
At the rate I’m throwing shit out as I pack to move there’s a strong possibility not all the kids will make it to the new house
I can count the number of times I’ve made my own fireworks on one hand. In fact, I have to.
If you’re starved for time, eat a watch.
[tries to take a selfie]
Phone: NOT ENOUGH SPACE.
[deletes a bunch of photos]
Phone: still tho… don’t.
Me: Thanks so much for the edible arrangement
GF: I sent you a dozen roses
Me: oh
GF: There’s a lot of blood coming out of your mouth
Me: [arguing with Tom Cruise] OMG JUST PICK A POSSIBLE MISSION
When I was little, I did not care about things like what to wear. My parents dressed me.
Looking back at some of my old pictures, it’s obvious my parents didn’t care either.
[forgetting the name for leaf blowers] Do you have any wind bazookas?
WATSON: we found one set of footprints in the driveway
SHERLOCK [smokes pipe]: so God was carrying the suspect
Me trying to match all my Tupperware with the correct lids is how I imagine it was for the prince trying to find Cinderella by making every woman in the land try on a shoe.
But with a hell of a lot more swearing.
My son had a meltdown because his sister accidentally stepped on his piece of popcorn shaped “perfectly like an octopus” and he was saving it for “his collection.” I don’t know about this collection. I don’t want to know about this collection.
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