“They call me Mr Six Hours,” I told her, trying to make it sound like a sex thing not the amount of time my head was stuck in a beehive for

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Hockey is more enjoyable if you pretend they’re fighting over the world’s last Oreo.


God: you’re a roly poly bug.

Roly Poly: what does that mean?

God: you roll up in a ball and kind of poly around.

Roly Poly: I’m sorry what?

God: you roll up in a ball [grabs knees and curls up in a ball].

Roly Poly:

God: [rolls around on the floor] and poly around.


I hate it when I forget my password and the security questions make me relive my entire childhood.


Waiter: And what would the lady like?
Date: Gigi, he means you.
Me: *blushing* Oh, wow. He called me a lady.


“I’m the only cop on the force who can play the bassoon dammit” “Not anymore” New cop in sunglasses walks in, just killing it on the bassoon


Changed my outgoing voicemail message to “You have reached the government.”


Me: *Walks into therapy with an iced coffee*

Therapist: You’re late again

Me: oH No HoW dOeS tHaT mAkE yOu FeEl, DeBoRaH


I avoid eye contact like everyone is trying to sell me $20 fundraiser popcorn.


Under a bridge, harassing goats. That’s how I troll.