The greeting cards that best express my sentiments for every occasion are the ones marked “Blank Inside.”

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Can’t get a girl? Rip out your rib and make your own! Critics are raving “this doesn’t work” and “I’m bleeding to death”.


Me: I’ve always been good at cosmetology. I have a nose for it.

Mortician: Please put that back.


Every group chat births a second smaller group chat without the annoying people, and if you think yours doesn’t, I have some bad news


Menage a trois?! I haven’t even successfully split a Kit-Kat three-ways


“zombies aren’t real zombies aren’t real zombies aren’t real zombies aren’t real”

– me, walking my dog at night


My future’s so bright that I have to wear lampshades like an injured dog.


“You know that’s not even a word, right?” I said, condescendingatively