*performs interpretive dance at your psych evaluation
Waiter: Ready to order?
Friend: I’ll have the quinoa and grilled tofu lettuce wrap.
Me: I’ll take the MSG platter with a side of gluten.
Rum: We’ve replaced her depth perception with fun house mirrors, now we wait.
*misses last two stairs, face plants*
Rum: tee-hee
I’ve reached a fork in the road, thank heavens it was laying right next to a pan of lasagna.
*forces square peg into round hole
Round hole: wrong hole.
My Rice Krispies were speaking in tongues this morning, so I’m pretty sure the end days are near.
I was going to pay my mortgage this month, but I was asked to bring guacamole to the family potluck.
My ex mother in law once commented that she wished her son had stayed married to his first wife.
Me too, I replied.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, unless of course, they’re feeding you kale.
In the summer there’s only so many clothes you can take off. On that note, please send bail money.
Don’t you dare look at me with that come hither stare; I haven’t hithered in years.
After the “incident” at the family cabin, my Indian name is Bounces Off Deck.