Sometimes I wish I was an octopus so I could hit 8 colleagues at once.
I lost my voice.
If whoever finds it could resume screaming at my ex-husband, that would be much appreciated.
I like to write all my death threat letters in Comic Sans.
I find it lightens the mood.
Want to get rid of your husband without killing him?
Just send him to the grocery store & ask for pine nuts.
Mine has been gone 6 years.
Right about now, family members all over the country are realizing the Starbucks cards I gave them for Christmas are empty.
Protip: if your date is going to throw a drink at your face, at least open your mouth, because hey, free drink.
I really really hope parallel universe me is vomiting on my cat’s carpet right now.
This guy at my work is giving his wife a gym membership for Christmas.
His name was John.
Apparently saying “If you think your wife is fat now, wait till she has the baby” is not a good way to congratulate someone.
No thanks, fantasy football. I already have a fantasy boyfriend, a fantasy sex life & a fantasy bank account.
I’m good.
There’s this guy at work who’s giving his wife a gym membership & a vegetable juicer for her birthday tomorrow.
His name was Tom.
Do cute firemen still come when a cat is stuck in a tree?
Only in case of fire?
Fine. But pretty sure my cat won’t like being set on fire.
Me blacking out when I’m drunk is God’s way of telling me that what I do when I drink is none of my business.
Do you have FB?
No
Do you have Twitter?
No
Instagram?
No
What do you have?
A life.
…
…
Can I have it?
No. I need it to play Candy Crush.
Facebook: I’m happy!
Instagram: I’m pretty!
Vine: I’m artsy!
Pinterest: I’m crafty!
Twitter: I’m lying everywhere but here.