god: you get to hang out with man and be his best friend
dog: cool
god: and you get to be man’s steed and travel with him far and wide
horse: nice
chicken: and what do i get to do?
god: uhhh
chicken: god what do i get to do
he was a truck, she was a robot, can i make it anymore optimus
i’m so bad at identifying internet scams. i’ll get an email that will literally say something like “click this link to send us your social security number and bank info and we’ll steal all your money” and i’ll be like “what could they mean by that?”
[first day as a botany professor]
me: who can tell me why plants release pollen in the spring?
student: to reproduce?
me: wrong. it’s to torture me specifically
hot girl at the club: so can i get your phone number?
me: hell yeah
girl: how about your address?
me: oh for sure, come by
girl: and your mother’s maiden name?
me: wait what
random guy came up to me today and asked for my autograph, and i gotta say i was flattered. a little strange that the only piece of paper he happened to have on him was a life insurance policy on me for $1 million, but sometimes that’s just how it works out!
“no animal except humans drinks the milk of another animal” cool, no animal except humans has netflix either, what’s your point
why do people say “he died in a bungee jumping accident”? it’s not an accident. he dove headfirst off a bridge connected only by an elastic cord. it’s an accident if he survives. say “he died while bungee jumping, obviously”
sorry, eggs benedict are way too fancy for me. bring me some eggs steve
i like the aisle seat on a flight because it gives me power over the other two people next to me. you wanna go to the bathroom? need to grab something from your bag in the overhead? better ask my permission. i’m the king of row 37 bud
just woke up from a terrible nightmare. was dreaming about a country called “britain” where people eat beans for breakfast and say stuff like “crumpet” and speak a barely intelligible version of english. thank god that’s not real
cashier, scanning alcohol: ID please
my dad, every single time: [pointing to me] here’s my ID. heh
guy: [drinking a coke]
me, hungover from a 3-day drug and alcohol-fueked bender: can’t believe he’s putting that garbage in his body
me: can i buy you a drink?
her: i’m getting married at 5
me: cool so we have 2 hours
nothing is certain but death, taxes, and that if anyone criticizes a billionaire online, a bunch of weird little freaks will emerge from the sewer and jump to his defense for some reason