hate when i type some normal shit like “i’m walking the dog” and my phone is like “did you mean: i’m🚶♂️the 🐶?” no i did not mean that because i am not the zodiac killer.
me: damn, can’t use the gps, my phone is dead
friend: it’s cool, we have a map
me: nice, we can find a place to charge my phone
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My boss: Are you on Twitter?
Me: I’ve never heard of it. Is it a drug? Why would you ask? Am I acting funny? Maybe you’re acting funny.
Instead of continually saying “password incorrect” why can’t my computer say “getting hotter” or “getting colder”?
Husband: We should eat healthier; we eat way too much junk food.
Me, pressing cookie dough into a waffle iron: Do what now?!
My fridge just screamed “OH JESUS, WHAT NOW?” at me as I opened its door.
What the FU..
(I have a master’s degree)
Me, writing: I must get the description of this wrought-iron fence that I remember from my childhood exactly right, down to the bumps and bubbles in the many coats of paint., no matter how long it takes.
Me, editing: *deletes three pages of description; inserts “a fence”*
Ugh, once again scratched my monocle falling asleep on my pile of gold coins.
Boss: Can I have a quick word?
After staying home with the kids, my first day back to work was going great until I peed with the door open yelling SHARE!