5-year-old: Dad! Dad! My sister-
Me: Stop tattling. I don’t want to hear about it unless there’s blood.
5: How much blood?
SIRI, CALL FOR HELP! Searching for kelp. OMGYOU IDIOT! SIRI, GET AN AMBULANCE! There are 23 listings for lap dance in your area.
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Kinda miss the Jane Austen era where a man is driven mad by a woman’s hand being ungloved & yet oblivious to her heaving bosom falling out.
Who names hurricanes? Are people actually supposed to be intimidated by something named Sandy?
Secret Santa is very disappointing if you’re self-employed.
Me: “Can I see the baby?”
Sister: “Yes, but only if she’s awake.”
Me, through a megaphone: “NOT A PROBLEM.”
All excellent questions
[inventing worcestershire ?sauce]
Lea: We’ll bottle pickled anchovy juice and name it unpronounceable.
Perrins: That might work.
These food blogs start simple.
‘How to cook rice. Boil. Serve’
But over time…
‘How to crème brûlée baba ganoush with caramel’.
Not to brag, but I can cure a man of having a thing for me in five minutes flat.
Life is what happens when you’re busy choosing a filter for what already happened in life.