*my casket slowly begins lowering into the ground*

me, knocking from inside: “Wait, I have to pee.”

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People who talk to themselves tend to be better lovers. Did you know that? Yes, I did know that. Thank you for asking.


“This place couldn’t possibly get any messier!”

TODDLER: “Hold my bear.”


My kids teeth are harder than my forehead and no I would not like to elaborate.


I’m watching ‘Dexter’ for inspiration. Entertainment. I meant entertainment.


This boot was made for walking.
This other boot was made for finding dog poop, apparently.


Me: I would like to summon my daughter and feel her presence once more.

Psychic: Okay. We ask for the daughter to come down and —

Daughter: I’M IN MY ROOM, MOM!


Just got your text from last night: you need to cut the red wire first to stop the countdown.


If it was Raining Men I doubt anyone’d say Hallelujah. Pretty sure people’d be screaming things like, “Augh! That guy just killed my mom!”


Her: Men are lucky. You just get to wake up & be hot.

Me: Not true. I still have to put my contacts in so I can see how hot I look.

H: …


When I die, someone, please attend my funeral dressed as the Grim Reaper and just stand there and don’t say a word. Thanks.