“I’d like to raise a toast.”
*Cradles bread in arms, accepting this step into motherhood*
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Am I relying on you to cover up all these blood stains after murdering my ex?
BLEACH I MIGHT BE
TOUCH NOT MY PONDERING CRYSTAL
What if you told a joke on stage then left. Then every few minutes for the next hour you peek out the curtain to see if anyone new is laughing at your joke. That’d be crazy right? That’s Twitter.
Geez man, take it easy.
Miss 9 trips over something and bangs her jaw on the bed.
Ohh no, how come you’re so clumsy I ask just as I bump my own head on a door frame.
Who called it raising pigs for meat and not Mama, just killed a ham?
I wrote a haiku about mansplaining for the Thursday contest and my husband offered to “look at it and make sure it fit the 5-7-5 format.”
For International Women’s Day, I’d like to recognize my sister wife. Without her I’d have to manage my kids’ timeouts and nag my husband all by myself. Thank you, Alexa.
oh to be lowered into a toaster with you, my bread slice wife
Clock: “You need to get up in 6 hours.”
Me: “No you’re mistaken. First I need to Google the lyrics to that song from 9th grade, and then find the episode with the scene where they played that song on BH 90210.”
me: [preparing to give eulogy] *takes jacket off*
priest: don’t undress the deceased
[i sweetly pet a wild baby deer in my lap] aww this is so boring
*puts bike helmet on 4*
my brain: now knock on it a coupla times
me: why?
brain: you just gotta
I was thinking about going jogging and after I stopped laughing I made a sandwich.
I never attended any of my class reunions because it would just consist of guys pretending to know the lyrics to Snow’s “Informer”.
If you like airborne fecal matter you’ll love being alive on earth
HER: Are you a dog or cat person?
BRAIN:*be cool, she seems pretty great*
ME: Whatever you want to eat is fine.
BRAIN: *nailed it*
I just poured a bowl of cereal and we’re out of milk. Cooking is hard.
My wife got an organic, free-range, non-GMO, antibiotic-free turkey for Thanksgiving — and every one of those adjectives added 20 bucks.
If you ever find a partially eaten grilled cheese sandwich at my house call the police.
Couldn’t find my keys so I retraced my steps back to when I was a piece of phosphorescent algae floating in the primordial sea, and yep there they were
Getting your shit together just sounds unsanitary
When you think about it, Carry On My Wayward Son is very poor parenting advice. It should be more Reign It In Douchebag You’re Upsetting Your Mom but that wouldn’t sell records I suppose.
Me: sorry I’m late, my toddler made me find his blue socks.
Friend without kids: I don’t believe a 3yo can MAKE you do anything.
Me: 😶
In what is potentially a gross misunderstanding of Christmas in general, my 2.5yo has hidden her wallet ahead of Santa’s arrival.
harsh writing advice: you’re not a writer if you aren’t making up your own words. if you’re just taking preexisting words and mixing up the order to form sentences and stories? you’re a DJ
My brain knows that there’s a guy doing work on my roof today, but my nervous system keeps acting like the house is under attack.
*gets hit by car
**back cracks
Me: Thank you!
It’s NOT day drinking if you didn’t sleep the night before, mother.
[electric chair]
“Any requests for your final minutes?”
“Yeh, I want the last episode of Lost explained.”
*acquitted on a technicality