a female xylophonist is called a xxlophonist.
My thoughts are as pure as snow… after the trucks have driven hard and plowed through it.
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*runs into the back of wife’s leg with the grocery cart for the 5th time*
me: We meet agai-
wife: Go wait in the car
Me: Babe will you love me when I’m old & fat.
Wife: I sure do.
My resume is just an old VHS tape of the “Life Goes On” episode where Corky lip syncs “Fight the Power” for his school’s talent show.
I plan to scary-haunt anyone who says “she wouldn’t want us to be sad” at my funeral. If you’re not sad that I’m gone forever you deserve it
Millions of years of evolution have moulded us into a species that struggles to open the wrong ends of garbage bags.
Me: Ew, what sort of shop is this? It just sells dead birds?
My cat: Pick out whatever you want, birthday boy. It’s on me.
*gives up seat on bus for an old lady*
*whispers in her ear*
“This isn’t over”
The first person to milk a cow probably saw a baby cow nursing and was like oh yeah people do that too and I have no food I don’t wanna die
Why do all these blurry people keep telling me I’m drunk?