me: [dancing in a well lit area]
Bruce Springsteen: absolutely not
*gets down on one knee*
‘Lady Doritos’ sounds like something Guy Fieri would call his wife when he’s trying to be romantic
me: my pasta salad is cold
waiter: it’s meant to be
me: I think you’re cute too but let’s get this pasta problem figured out first
[first date]
Her: I love big hearted people
Me {trying to impress her}: I have hypertrophic cardiomyopathy
[date]
Her: tell me something about yourself
Me: *remembers girls like tough guys* I killed a man
Her: …
Me: *remembers girls also like sensitive guys* but I cried afterwards
Doctor: Any food allergies?
Patient: Sometimes dairy products disagree with me
Carton of milk: That’s not true
[family of snakes boards a plane and spot Samuel L. Jackson a few rows back]
Father snake: oh no not this again
Baby snake: *starts crying*
God [creating centipedes]: *falls asleep with elbow on the legs button*
[Funeral]
He died doing what he loved; throwing rocks at bears and saying “it’s fine, they’re way more scared of us than we are of them”