[Movie pitch in Hollywood]
A mythical creature who likes to dance moves to a small town where dancing’s illegal. We’ll call it BigfootLoose
Hydrate the goths. No government stands a chance against hydrated goths.
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[son falls over & hurts himself]
ME: aww poor kid, he needs a little THC
WIFE: don’t you mean TLC?
ME: [huge bong rip] he needs what now?
7 years and 170,000 tweets later, all I can say is I’m glad this isn’t a gambling addiction.
*Puts on apron*
*Places Pop Tarts on plate*
You, watching the (…) in the text field for ten straight minutes: he must be coming up with something deep and meaningful
Me: Ham sanitizer
My roommate wants to have sex with me so bad. I don’t think he understands how marriage works.
WIFE: stop quoting Britney Spears songs or I’ll leave you
ME: but I’m a slave 4 u
WIFE: that’s it
ME: (whispers) oops I did it again
WIFE: Don’t tell the kids but I threw away those awful pictures they made & stuck on the fridge
ME: [sprinting towards the bin] MY ART
If you never milked a dead horse or got stoned from a turnip you don’t know how to mix metaphors. You buttered your bread, now lie in it.
before you test me just know there are no toddlers allowed in prison and that sounds really nice to me right about now