This hangover feels like the kids lunches are going to be a brown paper bag with a handful of change, and a note that says ‘buy something’.
My son kneed himself on the trampoline.
*black eye forming
Me: Son, we need to come up with a better story than this.
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I have a particular set of skills, skills that allow me to open beer cans so no one in the house knows I’m drinking.
Him: You smell good. What are you wearing?
Me: Just a bit of Ham & Cheese Hot Pocket.
I’ll bet Timmy would never have fallen down that well if his parents would’ve coughed up the money for a HUMAN instead of a dog babysitter.
Me: Age is just a number
My body: And today you’re 85 lol
“Have you tried… not thinking about skeletons?” my therapist asks.
I look at her.
I look at the skeleton inside her trying to trick me.
When this quarantine is over, let’s not tell some people.
Of course everyone seems sexy in a nightclub.
There’s liquor and you can’t hear them.
[buying cucumber and vaseline]
me: got an awesome night planned
[later, eating a cucumber and vaseline sandwich]
this is awful
Woody: lol u guys! u guys. come hear this shit
Woody: say it again
Buzz: [sighs] to infinity and beyond
Mr. Potatohead: lmao “AnD bEyOnD” does he not understand what infinity means