Neighbor may have just called the cops after hearing me yell at the cat for stealing my cheese bread
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JUDGE: I find you guilty of murder. Sentenced to life.
LAWYER: But it was only 20 minutes of murder.
JUDGE: Oh, then you’re free to go.
[desert island diary – day 1]
4:15 pm: Got one call out of my cell phone before it died. Now I wait.
5:25 pm: That pizza is definitely free
I’m not making a decision on who to vote for until I see the latest results from dogshit7’s Twitter poll. It’s important to have all the facts.
This TikTok trend might be my favorite so far
This morning I jogged for 30 swear words.
Buying a new phone isn’t even satisfying anymore. It’s literally just your old phone with a haircut.
[BAR]
Me: What do you recommend?
Barkeep: Moscow Mule, Mojito, Old Fashi-
M: [Puts finger to his lips] which tastes the most like Capri-sun?
I used to be so graceful, now I am like a puppy with a box stuck on her head
Want to get rid of your husband without killing him?
Just send him to the grocery store & ask for pine nuts.
Mine has been gone 6 years.
“please feel free to ignore this email” – respectful, timely communication, probably requesting something that I can handle in a couple minutes
“I need this ASAP” – well you shoulda asked yesterday pal
Apparently, Walt Disney was a secret FBI snitch for 26 years so I guess you could say he was a rat who was famous for drawing a mouse.
Maybe she’s losing it.
Maybe it’s quarantine.
Incase you didn’t hear the look I just gave you,
Shut up.
Women are better than cake. You can have a woman and eat her too.
Decided to stop saying “please subscribe” in my videos and it’s working. No new subscribers.
Remember “pantsing” people in high school… sneaking up behind one of your bros and slipping an extra pair of pants on over his pants
*yells from the back of an ambulance*
“Can you drop me off at the corner, I can’t afford this!”
How’s your Saturday going?
I’ll go first: my 10 yo came upstairs from his video game haze to tell me the dog peed on the rug again. We don’t have a dog.
*Victorian letters to Santa*
My dearest Santa,
I trust this letter finds you well. We have had an exciting season with 7 family members succumbing to consumption.
*8 more pages of socially-accepted bigotry against every other nationality & poor people*
I would like an orange.
Funerals have gotten so expensive: at mom’s, after paying for the bouncy house, clowns & pony rides, we couldn’t afford a decent magic show.
Am I fun? No. Interesting? No. Dateable? Yes. I’d place me late 20th century.
Sees friend from highschool. Gives friend a big hug. Refuses to let go of friend. Becomes siamese friends.
As I suspected, someone has been adding soil to my garden.
The plot thickens.
T-Rex teen: Omg, that meteor is so bright, I’m literally dying!
T-Rex mom: don’t be so dramatic…
The trick to successfully backing out of a parking space is to not care what happens to you or anyone else.
3: Can I have another cheese slice?
Me: Sure.
3: I won’t squish this one in a ball and put it under the cushion.
Just found the worst page in the entire dictionary. What I saw was disgraceful, disgusting, dishonest, and disingenuous.
I accidentally dropped one of my husband’s Viagra into my contact solution and now I’m cockeyed.
No one warned me that my teens can be royally pissed off with each other, but that will not stop them from missing an opportunity to collectively be mad at me.
How is this not always the biggest story of the day?
