This might be my ego talking, but I feel my weight-loss spambot followers care about me. They really, really, do.
I sit in the corner eating my tortillas completely confused by this salsa class.
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I asked my dog to marry me and he said no. I am stuck in man’s best friendzone.
Imagine being the kid that got cut from the team on Air Bud because they had to make a roster spot for a golden retriever.
Of course your milkshake brings the boys to the yard. What boy doesn’t love milkshakes? If your asparagus brought em, then I’d be impressed.
My toddler just spent five minutes explaining that he can’t use his imagination because he traded it to a kid at daycare for some fruit snacks. Ok, bro.
DOCTOR: I have good news and bad news
ME: what’s the good news
D: that’s for someone else; sorry, doctor-patient confidentiality
So you’re into the “bad boy” type? The kind who has a dark side, a tough childhood, breaks the law, everyone knows his name but dare not speak it, could use a nose job and a manicure?
Yeah, that’s Voldemort. You’re into Voldemort.
[knock at door]
Cop: open up, it’s the police
Me [doing an Estonian accent]: I’m not here
Cop: are you in Estonia?
Me: I am. I’m in Estonia
Dude that’s not a tire swing its a warning to other tires that trespass in my yard
[outpost in the Arctic Circle]
“I’m quitting, here’s my 2 week notice”
BOSS: The days last 6 months here