Your Daily Dose Of Unadulterated Funny Tweets

Me to Kids: …and so the princess married the first person who asked her, and that’s called ‘settling,’ can you say ‘never settle,’ children?
Husband, walking in: What the- what kind of bedtime story is THAT?
Me, fleeing room: And they all lived happilyeveraftergoodnight!

wife: don’t let the kids see you drinking directly from the bottle

me: *putting down the ketchup* ok

Her: We need a three-way…
Me: How about Joanie?
Her: …bulb in the living room lamp.
Me:
Her:

Well kids, when a man and woman love each other very much, he erects a monument for her, but in his pants.

[terrible nursing home]

Old guy: How did you end up here?

Elderly me: I made my kids steak instead of hot dogs.

Him: *gasps* You monster.

Nurse: you’ve been in a coma for three months

Me: oh boy! I can’t wait to see Coldplay in concert

Nurse (standing 6 feet away): there’s something you should know

Me: what?

Nurse: Coldplay sucks

me doing my taxes: will i go to jail if i write off this pen?

some rich guy doing his taxes: deduct “the sea”

Hate it when I put on active wear and nothing happens.

I’ve failed the “I am not a robot” captchas so often the robots have started including me in their World Domination chat rooms and bake sales.

Every time I open my mouth, some idiot starts talking.

Dudes who take one picture in a suit then start posting about success, just go to the wedding bro.

First they make you step on the scale, and then they announce your weight out loud. It’s like the assistants at the doctor’s office don’t know anything about women.

If you love something keep it in the refrigerator, keep it fresh, that thing you love is a lot like mayonnaise.

[seeing an angel, appearing to be a glorious half-bird, half-human being]

me: *very hesitantly throwing bread at it*

H: You’re a narcissist.
Me: But I’m pretty, right?
H: Not my type.
Me: Funny?
H: Annoying.
M: The MOST annoying?
H: Yes,
M: I’ll take it.

I can still taste the cardamom pod I accidentally chewed in that pilau rice in 1989.

The nice thing about a garage sale is having people pay you to haul your junk away.

I once had a tweet go bacterial.

By the third month of my sentence, I’d whittled a lifelike gun from a bar of soap and covered it in shoe polish. That’s how bored I was.

When ya leave Twitter it’s called twittercide.
What about Instagram?
Instagramicide? IGicide? Instacide? Gramicide? Instadead? Instagone?

My wife inexplicably waited to the last minute to tell me that my kids have dance class today.

So annoying when she does this every week.

I’m starting to think some of these Marvel movies might be made up.

My phone will never let me forget the day I texted “hahajaha”.

“For a really awkward time, call me.”

-me, leaving my number on bathroom stalls.

I won’t be satisfied until I have enough followers to form sects that fight about how to interpret My tweets until they kill each other.

hen my pregnant friend pulled me aside and was like “I just wanted to get ahead of this.. we’re naming her Grace but it’s not after you. It has nothing to do with you”.

Now that I’m in charge of Santa’s milk and cookies, it’s payback time for that Barbie townhouse I never got.

Niece: found these handcuffs in your drawer.
Me: yea I got arrested once
Niece: omg why
Me: for going through my aunt’s drawers.

Tonight at my family reunion my husband played a game of volleyball with a handful of 8-year-olds and afterward he told me, with such pride, “I learned that I’m actually pretty athletic.”

8-year-olds. One of them had a cast. Another was eating ice cream the entire time.