Every relationship needs boundaries…
….mine are set at 500 feet according to the paperwork.
*reading of my will*
Executor: ‘Ahem. Dearly beloved…and also to my immediate family…’
I may appear calm on the outside…
…but pigeons are attacking a french fry in my head.
Me: ‘This may be the booze talking, but that is a VERY snazzy outfit you have on there.’
Cop: ‘Step out of the car, please.’
Nurse: ‘Have you had any adverse reactions to vaccines previously?’
Me: ‘I understand I screamed a lot as a child.’
Ever since my boss discovered my Twitter account, these drug tests are seeming a lot less ‘random’.
It’s almost like someone got the entire past year wet and fed it after midnight.
‘Welcome home. I barfed over there.’
~cats
This whole year with my family has given me whatever the opposite of Stockholm Syndrome is.
‘Why don’t you come over here and taste these Doritos…’
– Romancing the stoned
*at reading of my will*
Executor: *opens envelope*
‘Ahem…’You selfish, bloodsucking little pricks…’’
God: I made spring time so that all could witness nature’s rebirth!
Satan: I make people scroll down to find their birth year.
Elevator sex is a logistical nightmare on many levels.
Me: ‘Alexa, set the timer for 90 minutes.’
Alexa: ‘What are we burning tonight?’
She said she liked it doggy style…
…but when I threw the frisbee, she didn’t even budge.