The Geek Squad needs a service where a plain-clothed tech will go fix my mom’s computer and claim to be a friend of mine so she doesn’t know I paid someone so I wouldn’t have to do it.
Marriage: an institution where having to slightly adjust your mirrors every time you get in your car puts you in a homicidal rage.
Me: I got a new car!
Him: What kind of mileage does it get? What’s the horsepower? How long is the powertrain warranty?
Me: It’s red.
I’m 53 years old unless I’m driving at night in the rain. Then I’m 107.
Clerk: What do you do at work?
Me: Write stupid jokes on Twitter.
Clerk: You can get paid for that?
Me: Hell no. That’s why I do it at work.
Every single employee in this hotel has said good morning to me. I’m never staying here again.
Me: 3 miles today.
Him: On the treadmill?
Me: No, scrolling on Twitter.
My resume is just a piece of paper that says “Please don’t Google me.”
I took a “Which Disney princess are you?” quiz and I got Jafar.
I hate how Pinterest highlights that some moms make pancakes that look like animals when I can’t even make pancakes that look like pancakes.