Oh predictive text, how you tournament me.
My grandfather built the house I live in. So when I cut the grass, I’m doing the same lawn I have been doing since I was 10. Only back then I got $5 for doing it. Now I don’t.
This is bullshit.
I sprayed FeBreeze on the recliner and now my dog won’t talk to me.
Haven’t tweeted much the last couple days. Trouble at home. Marital trouble. We’ve always been a team, worked through things well together but now we’ve hit an impasse that I’m not sure how we can work out.
She’s gotten sick of pizza.
Celery. For when you really need to chew your water.
I don’t want to whine about how muggy it is but there’s a smallmouth bass right now hanging behind my right shoulder spell checking my tweet.
He says it’s ok.
“No. No, I’m sorry, but there must absolutely be a hole right here.”
My dog, after removing the top soil I put in a hole she hadn’t touched in well over a year.
If you like more than one type of pasta does that make you bilinguini?
So I recently learned that that plastic thing you pull off the top of the Pringles can can be put back on so it’s like you never opened it.
Still not sure why you would need this though.
I think I may have screwed up. When I saw on here how the ladies liked the dad bod I went and got 3.
I remember when hashtag meant it was your turn to fill the pipe.
Instead of the little blue bird Twitter should have used a rooster for it’s emblem.
What could represent this place better than a creature that starts screaming every time a new day begins?
In high school I was voted “I’m not really sure who that guy is”.
Imagine the excitement of the first scientist to travel between parallel dimensions. He’ll be beside himself.
A ghost appears in the room. It wants to tell me something, but won’t speak. It throws up it’s hands, as if trapped in another world.
Yeah, great. Just my luck I get haunted by a phantomime.