Welcome to your forties, when “the wee hours” now means the time you have to get up at night to pee.
*names my little horse OneTrick*
ME: I’m not the same person I was yesterday. What you’re looking at is a different me.
Passport agent:
That bathwater had too much baby in it anyway.
Told my wife I’d marry her all over again, and we both understood it would only be to get more gifts.
[Driving home from restaurant]
WIFE:
ME: What?
WIFE:
ME:
WIFE:
ME: Sheesh. All I did was call the gluten-free stuff “de-floured”
Buzzfeed be like, “Tell us what Hogwarts house you think your dog belongs in and we’ll tell you what you had for breakfast.”
OK so apparently “psychosis” is one word, and doesn’t specifically refer to my female sibling.
“Stop trying to give your words depth and gravitas by attributing them to a faraway old civilization.” – ancient Chinese proverb
Him: The dog ate your take-home final?
Me: Yeah.
Him: So what happened?
Me: Well, a few hours later-
Him: Oh, no.
Me: -he passed the test.
Him: You put feathers of a crow in this drink?
Me: Yes, I made sure they all came from 1 crow. It’s…
Him: Please don’t.
Me: …single molt
I’m Phoenician, as in, “Nobody better stop me from Phoenician all of these donuts.”
Editor: You wrote a play about Victorian England using menstrual blood as ink?
Me: Yes, it’s a period piece.
Created by Jews, saves humanity.
Who, Jesus? No, dummy. Superman.
Him: So what do you do?
Me (hoping to save up for some bushes at the edge of my property): I run a hedge fund.