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*wakes up after all night party*

*rolls over*

*rolls over*

*rolls over*

How did I get on this escalator?


There are so many songs that tell us how to breathe. It’s like musicians and songwriters have never heard of the autonomic nervous system.


I made quiche, like a real grown-up. I feel like Tom Hanks in Castaway when he makes fire… I HAVE MADE QUICHE!


Before you send that mass “Merry Christmas!” text don’t.


Me: They are tiny mints that live in a little plastic coffin
Boss: I said let’s talk tactics


Welcome to anxiety club, I really hope more people show up. Maybe there was a terrible accident and everyone that was coming is now dead


4-year-old: What happens when you die?

Me: You go to heaven.

4: No, I mean when you die, do I get your stuff?


Murderer: If you correct my grammar once more, I’ll kill you

Me: But I couldn’t stop myself

Murderer: But you could of

Me: oh no


A wise man once said… absolutely nothing.

He let her vent and then they had sex afterward.


“hey mister can i pet your dog?”
“sure kid”
“what kind is he?”
“that there’s a pure beef vienna son careful don’t get mustard on your shirt”