Me *wakes up from nap*
Wife: what are you doing up?
Me: was I not supposed to wake up?
Wife[nervous laugh] what?
[In the middle of nowhere]
4: “Mommy, are there toilets on this road trip?”
“Because I’m about to poop my pants.”
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Just a reminder that when Shakespeare was quarantined because of the plague, he wrote King Lear.
Boss: Read me one of your funny tweets
Me: Not right now I’m working
Boss: Bahahahaha tell me another one
And The Bro saith unto them,
Follow me to the club,
and I will make you fishers of women.
I sent a coworker a 15 page document as 15 one page PDF files rather than one 15 page PDF file.
Passive-aggressive level achieved: Expert
it would probably never occur to you, but if need be, yellow pages book can knock your opponent out without any visible bruising.
Him: I like a woman with a healthy appetite
Me (acing this date):
I’m a regular guy just like you. I put my pants on one leg at a time while thinking about how far I could throw each kind of bird while it sleeps.
You know you’re too drunk to drive when you swerve to miss a tree then realise it was your air freshener.
I have the body of a 25-year-old girl, a 25-year-old who has recently been eaten by a 40-year-old bear.