My veterinarian asked a lot of personal questions. He was all like “Why do you want so much horse tranquilizer?” & “Do you even own horses?”
Brunos are from Mars, Freddies are from Mercury.
You should be my grillfriend. Not a typo, girl. You’re hot enough to cook meat on.
Talk to the hand. The hand is lonely and needs some company. What are you up to? How’s work? You look great. You want some tea?
Hey, the 1700’s called, they said please invent telephones.
To apply for a job at Hooters do they hand you a bra and say, “Here, just fill this out.” ?
Gave this artichoke the heimlich maneuver and now he’s artiokay.
The irony of my developing severely crippling stomach cramps minutes after reading a cheesy old love story isn’t lost on me.
*faints*
“Asphyxiate’ would be worth like a million points…” I thought to myself as I lay choking on a Scrabble tile.
I don’t need anyone with a so-called degree “to” tell me I use quotes wrong.
Out of curiosity I decided to look at Pinterest, and I’ve decided it’s basically cyber-hoarding…
Social experiments where skinny people wear fat suits teach us to be nicer to fat people because it might be a skinny person in a fat suit.
Maybe don’t show me a picture if you don’t want me to rate your baby.
I like how commercials for gum seem to be predicting a cold, dystopian future where our survival depends on the freshness of our breath.
A baby is 75% water. So if I walked on babies I’d be 75% Jesus. #SolidLogic