If it weren’t for the gutter my mind would be homeless.

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Devil: I want your soul!

Me: Not for sale!

Devil: Name your price.

Me: Fix all my typos.

Devil: Too much work, keep your soul.


[Going through customs]

Anything to declare, sir?


Sir, what are you–

3…4…I declare a thumb war!

Oh bring it on

*misses flight*


The neighborhood is having a meeting tonight about the creepy guy & I’m the only one not invited. Weird.


Someone’s overfeeding that damn cat.
I mean.. there’s something like Stonehenge in her litter box.


*rocks out at concert*
*holds up lighter*
*millennials scream*
*mass chaos, crying*
*I’m tackled*
*one old guy high-fives me as I go down*


Wife: I’m making breakfast for dinner tonight. What do you want?
Me: Bacon.
Wife: And?
Me: *blank stare*
Wife: AND?
Me: A napkin?


Of course every kiss begins with k. That’s how the English language works, stupid.


Trying to motivate myself to go for a run, but it’s windy outside.

And outside.