
We asked George, the office conspiracy theorist, to organize the Christmas party to show him how impossible it is to get a group of people to work together towards a common goal.
We asked George, the office conspiracy theorist, to organize the Christmas party to show him how impossible it is to get a group of people to work together towards a common goal.
I sleep with my grandad’s WWII bayonet under my pillow. You never know when someone might break in and start filming Antiques Road Show.
God grant me the serenity to accept the terms and conditions I will not read.
Parents tell you their baby’s weight because they have no other information. They can’t say “Meet Jim, a free spirit who’s into yodeling.”
Starve a cold. Feed a fever. Humiliate a rash. Flatter a migraine. Friendzone diarrhea. Date cramps. Bring anxiety home to meet the family.
“Well well well if it isn’t the guy I’m stalking.”
“Get out of my hamper.”
One day ISIS is going to screw up and accidentally hit ‘add your location’ to a tweet.
This Dollar Store thesaurus sure is coming in…
*shuffle shuffle*
…hippopotamus.
Hello? I’d like to rent one bouncey house, please. How many will be using it? Just one. Her age? Uh. Four……..ty-seven.
I’m the most bashful person in the world, until you get me on the dance floor. Then I become the most bashful newborn giraffe in the world.