The “dining room”? Calm down, McDonald’s.
I keep lowering my expectations and you keep limbo-ing underneath them.
I sat on the toilet approximately 4 degrees off centre, so obviously I’m rattled.
If I text you and you immediately call me, that’s entrapment.
Millennial: OMG, you don’t even know how to make a gif? That’s so tragic to me right now. Can you at least make a meme?
Me: I own a house.
Me (drunk): I was over served tonight
Friend: aren’t you home alone?
Me: OVER SERVED!
Nobody’s a bigger drama queen than soup in a microwave.
I don’t understand wishing dead celebrities happy birthday. Shoutout to Mary Queen of Scots, who would be 577 today.
You: how are you?
Me: I want to rip off my skin, scream for six hours, then swan dive off a bridge.
Me: Good. I’m good.
Body: we’re exhausted. We’re going to fall asleep so easily.
Brain: you adorable idiot.