[quietly] “Always a bridesmaid never the bride”

BRIDE: Hey, you’re not one of my bridesmaids!

“Shhh…this day is about you, not me.”

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Remember: You can kill someone and wear their skin as a suit, but it’s not identity theft until you use their debit card. Be smart about it.


Give a man a fish and chances are you won’t be asked to be in charge of buying a gift “from all of us” anymore.


The voices in my head have been quiet for a while. They probably broke something.


Therapist: You try too hard to get people to like you

Me: [painting her toenails] I need a “for instance”


[A montage of me flailing because I walked into a spiders web, with larger and larger crowds, until I am at the karate championships]


If I ever want to keep a secret from a man, I’ll put it in the fridge. They can’t find anything in there.


When 13 witches collectively fart in a cauldron and quickly cover it with a lid…

*lowers shades*

…Dutch Coven.


He’s dead, Jim. Bought the farm. Bit the pita. Shanked the llama. He’s a shit piñata. He’s gone elf. Dropped the fudgsicle. No more potatoes