My clothes don’t fit anymore.

There’s only one possibly explanation.

America is shrinking my clothes.

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two year old comes up to me asking if I’ve seen a dummy, unaware that she’s just set herself up for the most brutal slam of her little life.


Relationship status:

-Applies sunscreen to wall.
-Rubs back on wall.


*walks in*


*does a 360° and walks in further*

Ah that’s why I failed geometry


The only thing I want written on my tombstone is “I’m standing right behind you.”



Me, handing him fries: you really don’t need to scream that for every customer who supersizes their order, Jeffrey.


Never go grocery shopping hungry. Always bring a chair to the furniture store. Buy clothes in a swimsuit. I’m not clear on the rules


Southerners don’t use contractions like “y’all” and “young’n” out of laziness. Most of us are just too poor to afford entire words.


“Please let go of my hair”

-my gynaecologist


Hey, not too bad
I know mom
I know mom
I know mom
I know mom
I know mom
I know mom
I know mom
I love you too
Ok, bye

-phone convos with mom