Me: [giving eulogy] He was a good man. He was a kind man. He was born to the blade, and merciless. He had a secret robot arm that shot out the side of his head. He was nine inches tall and invisible on Tuesdays. He wanted you to know the truth let go of me they need to hear this
Thinking about implanting a magnet in my chin so I can make a badass beard of iron filings and paper clips. More attractive, yes?
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‘Leave no stone unturned’ is good advice if you’re looking for something that crawls out from under rocks.
4: Let’s hunt turkeys, Daddy.
Me: How do we do that?
4: Put up a big sign that says, “Come here, Turkeys!”
I might be raising Elmer Fudd.
You don’t know terror until your kids drive and you’re paying their car insurance.
At least there’s one other woman who’s more wasted than me in this emergency room.
No, my mistake, she’s got dementia.
Pavlov: the dogs salivate when I ring a bell
Me: weird. Why?
Pavlov: they connect two unrelated events due to repeated conditioning
Me: haha stupid animals
Pavlov: the experiment took 69 days
ME: *unzipping pants nervously*
PROCTOLOGIST: You’re nervous, that’s normal, but please zip my pants back up.
[taking out wet laundry]
me: finally everything’s clean!
that one wet sock: where’s the shittiest bit of floor I can land on?
There’s no sticker warning me not to eat this box of nails so I guess I’ll just go for it.
grandmas are always like “not enough meat on your bones” the only reasonable explanation being that at a certain age every grandma starts giving serious thought to cooking her family and eating them