The real criminals are the recipes that suggest using apple sauce instead of butter

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The look on my husbands face while watching a Victoria’s Secret commercial tells me exactly where all my catalogs went.


I hope zombies will come from Mexico.
After eating their way through fat Americans, they’ll be like “Sorry little Canadians. We’re full.”


My parents were very inspirational, they used to say:

“You can do whatever you want in life, as long as you don’t do it here.”


Me: Have you heard about Stockholm Syndrome? Where the captor and the captive become BFF’s?

Kidnapper: You’ve been here 10 minutes?

Me: It stands for Best Friends Forever if you’re wondering


I painted a banner for our annual family picnic, but my Mom thought “Celebrating 100 Years of Undiagnosed Mental Illness” was inappropriate.


Me: *buys a baseball cap shopping with my 13yo Niece, rips off the tag, and curves the brim*

Niece: *stares at me like I committed a murder in front of her*


[Tornado warning]
Me: It says to seek shelter.
Husband: We’re in the house.
M: They mean the basement.
H: I’m more afraid of the basement than I am a tornado.


I’m scared of Botox and plastic surgery so my plan for turning 40 is Snapchat filters.


I got myself into this mess, and I can get myself further into this mess.