barista: can i get a name?

me: sure. you look like a Tiffany

barista: no i mean a name for the order

me: oh! we’ll call this “coffee from Tiffany”

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Trouble brewing at Symphony Hall. It’s the bottom of Beethoven’s 9th, and the bassists are loaded.


If I could rearrange the alphabet I would put U & I and your hot friend Amber together.


I wonder what the part of my brain that used to remember phone numbers is up to these days.


*1st day on prozac*

Me: These are awesome! What am I supposed to take tomorrow?

Doctor: That was a 30 day supply.

Me: Whoops.


Coworker: These heels are killing my feet but they’re so cute.
Me: These ugly Sketchers I’m wearing have insides made out of memory foam.


I like my women so intelligent that it takes me days to realize I was insulted.


[Eating unhealthy potato at restaurant]

Cop: You’re under arrest.

Me: What’s the charge?

[Lowers sunglasses]

Cop: a salt and buttery.


There are two reasons I often don’t reciprocate:

1. I get distracted.


I watch birds sometimes and wonder, “If I could fly, whose car would I crap on?”