Is it ‘My wife and I’ or ‘Me and my wife’? Anyway, we just robbed a liquor store
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♫ 12 drummers drumming
♫ 11 pipers piping
♫ 10 lords a leaping
♫ 9 ladies dancing
♫ 8 maids a milking
♫ 7 swans a swimming
♫ 6 geese a laying
♫![]()
“So I go east? Then west? Then back east?”
~ Me, drunk and getting directions from the inflatable stick figure in front of a car dealership
My husband complained that I never do a Sunday roast so I’ve spent the last hour writing jokes about his bald spot, his skinny legs and the fact that he can’t grow a beard.
Thinking about switching my books to a freemium model. I could give away the basic version but charge extra for fun bonus features like plot, characters, and vowels.
“Hello, yes, I’m going to need a tray of hors d’oeuvres delivered this Tuesday at noon to the blue Acura parked next to the dumpster behind the Kohl’s on 14th Street.”
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I hate the word Fiancée. Why do i have to speak french just because youre getting married
[at the auto parts store]
Me: I need windshield wipers for my Chryler
Counter Guy: What size engine
ONLY text me in an emergency. Like my car’s shooting flames from the trunk, one of my exes dies eventfully, or if someone thinks I’m sexy.
Just ONCE, I’d like took deep into your beautiful eyes, and make hot sweet love with you without some pop-up window ruining the mood.
Google just alerted me to light traffic in my area which is odd because I’m in the bathtub.
every time a guy in a movie says he has a bad feeling about this it’s when he’s already driving a car off a mountain and trying to land on another mountain that’s both on fire and covered in spikes. and it’s like yeah man that makes sense
Feels like the fourth month in January
Him: Alcohol isn’t the answer.
Me: OK, what’s the answer?
Him:
Me: *sips flask*
ME IN 2010: My prospects for the future are bright and I am focused on them
ME IN 2017: I’m going to tweet about a raccoon who outwits me
Waiter: Did you save room for dessert?
Me: Not really, I’m stuffed
Waiter: Ok, I’ll bring the check
Me: I’ll have the chocolate cake.
he looks like the detective in a TV mystery series who’s been drinking a bit much since his wife died but always gets his man
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[job interview]
Him: Do you have any social media accounts?
Me: …
Him: …
Me: …
Him: …
Me: …
Him: …
Me: …
Him: …
Me: …
NASA: The moon is wobbling.
Me [on my 3rd Bloody Mary]: same
🙀🙀🙀😹
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Wife smelled eggs and thought I was bringing her breakfast in bed. How do I tell her it was just me with gas?!
I like my whiskey like my marriage….
On the rocks.
[notice son’s not home]
[text]
Me: IT’S AFTER MIDNIGHT! I SAID HOME BY 11!
17: You were my ride.
Me: Oh. Where are you again?
[first date]
“What’s wrong?”
I don’t like the ambulance in this place
[sniggering] “You mean ambience”
[next table] NEE NAW NEE NAW WOOOOOO
I’ve wrecked my car yet I still weigh the same. This crash diet is for the birds.
Bone Doctor: Make 3 changes to your diet. Up calories…protein…and foods high in calcium.
Me: *eyes light up* So cheese, cheese and cheese!
I have to lose 20 lbs in 3 days. Piece of cake, I tell the waitress. Chocolate. Thanks.
I wonder if Mr. Potato Head gets emails letting him know there are hot Pringles in his area.
Sometimes I wish I was a mermaid. Maybe then HR would stop hassling me for wearing a seashell bra on casual Fridays.
Peter Pan: just think happy thoughts!
Me: um, ok
[1 hour later]
Peter: *pouring prozac into my hand* look we don’t have all goddamn night