Midwife: It’s a boy, ma’am.
Mrs Dickens: Edward. Edward’s a nice name, isn’t it, dear?
Dickens: LET’S CALL HIM OPPROBRIOUS FRILLYBOCKER
if you love something, set it free. If it immediately bites your throat and drags you up a tree, you love a leopard and should try to escape
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detective: there are hundreds of footprints at this crime scene
crooked centipede cop: [sweating] must have been a hundred murderers
therapist: “remember there are no stupid questions”
therapist: “keith you start”
me: “do sharks ever need to have a bath?”
“This is the bear kids”
Wow I want his arms
“What? You cant ha..”
*kid shows tour guide 2nd amendment*
“Bring him the arms smh”
I have a horrible memory, unless we’re discussing something you did wrong.
I sexually identify as the foot of Cinderella’s stepsister when it is being crammed into the glass slipper.
During love scenes in a Wes Anderson movie, the sound effects guy rubs a baguette against corduroy.
“I think that kid’s a robot”
“Look at his mouth”
Relax they’re just braces
*backs away slowly*
“That’s exactly what a robot would say”
Superman finally decides, after realizing an entire city of people is duped by a pair of glasses, that Metropolis really isn’t worth saving.
Remember when maths teachers said “you won’t have a calculator on you all the time when you’re older” well guess what, I do and I keep it in my pocket right next to my phone