My husband has texted me 12 times from the grocery store with questions. He’s only made it to aisle 4. Pray for me.

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*has no girlfriend or kids*

*gives out dating and parenting advice*


Me: I miss the good old days

Wife: when we were young, alive, still full of hope?

M: no, when I had to use an ampersand to make a tweet fit

W: I despise you


Today I went to the bathroom without a phone. There are 72 tiles on the bathroom floor.


Ma’am do you know anything about your husband’s death?

Yeah, suicide. It’s awful isn’t it?

You’re saying he chopped himself up and threw his body in the lake?

*sigh* I know, he had some real demons.


Wouldn’t it have made more sense if Al Gore claimed he invented the Algorithm?


I just brushed my hair while wearing a fuzzy sweater and now I can make a streetlight come on by touching it.


I know how to pronounce worcestershire until I see it written.


*runs in place*
*cracks knuckles*
*stretches neck*
*takes a deep breath*

*heads toward buffet*


Pregnancy is so weird. It’s, like, “Who’s that in my belly? It’s Brad. He’s going to drive a used Buick one day.”


I accidentally flushed a public toilet with my hand instead of my foot. I may be dying now.