The pot called the kettle black. The pot is silver…………we now have a situation in the kitchen.

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“Doctor, tennis has caused bad pain in my forearms”

-There’s nothing I can do

“There isn’t?”

-Not until you bring in your other two arms


If I had to homeschool kids because of the pandemic, recess would be 6 hours long.


Me: “Whose bra is that?”
Daughter: “Mine.”
Me: “Why is it on the kitchen windowsill?”
Daughter: “I took it off to eat.”


Things Stephen King books taught me to be afraid of:
-storm drains
-the street
-little girls
-the prom


All these people training for marathons and I’m over here, on my couch, trying to lasso the remote with my phone charger.


Got my inhaler mixed up with my psychedelic frog and went on one hell of a wheezy ride.


I broke up with a woman once, she was beautiful but dumb, I kicked her to the curb because she couldn’t tell the difference between my bedroom door and the neighbor’s bedroom door.


The worst is when you eat onions and then your fingers smell like onions and your breath smells like onions and you turn to your left and your dog has turned into an onion and you look out the window and the moon is an onion. Everything is onion now. Everything.


Day 1: This is a great chance to rediscover my love of cooking!

Day 5: *sink full of spoons, trash full of empty jars of peanut butter*