Last year I ate out alone on Valentine’s Day. To avoid embarrassment, I yacked the whole time with a lovely couple the next table over.
Me: [getting stabbed by criminal] buddy this seems illegal
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Area man gains z axis, becomes volume man, won’t stop yelling
Grandma’s funeral ft. Pitbull
Me: I haven’t spoken to my mom in years. I do love her though.
Therapist: She isn’t going to live forever. You should call and tell her.
Me: You’re right…*dials number*
Mom, you’re going to die *hangs up*
Life Tip: If you get a bunch of tattoos people will never ask you to babysit.
Cop: There’s been another break in at the bakery.
Swan: I wouldn’t know anything about it.
Cop: *hands him a bread roll*
Swan: Word at the pond is that ducks did it, but you didn’t hear it from me.
Thug: *shows tattoos of tear drops* So I remember each person I’ve killed.
Me:*shows tattoo of an oven* So I remember to turn off the oven.
My therapist told me to take more risks so I parted my hair on the other side this morning.
“Have you tried putting balogna in it?”
~me, as a marriage counselor
I hated Sex Ed at school. Or ‘Sexy Edward’, to give him his full name.