If women would start naming their periods like hurricanes it would be alot easier for us men to remember which argument you are referring to

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“Ewww how’d that get in the house? I don’t wanna kill it. I’ll just put it outside”

*scoops your baby up in a tissue*


Me: I know our time together is over. I want you to know that I’ll always treasure the memories and I don’t think anything will make me feel as amazing as you did

Husband: Could you please stop crying and talking to your empty plate. The waiter is scared and people are staring


GUY: my new boss is gay

ME: my new bed sheets are warm

GUY: [clearly frustrated] what does that have to do with anything?

ME: exactly


Our forefathers fought against British rule so anyone can become president. For the first time in 240 years, we’re regretting that decision.


[at funeral parlor with bereaved girlfriend]

HER: You think these glass urns are a good idea?

ME: Remains to be seen.


For Halloween my husband asked me to dress up as a nurse, cause that’s one of his fantasies: That we have health care.


First date:

And if you could slide over a little bit my Mom would like to sit next to you…


Drinking wheatgrass juice is a great way to know what being a lawnmower tastes like.