Please, my pastrami on rye. It’s very sick.
i’m no stephen hawking but i think
what happens is that they cancel
each other out
no one ever comes back
“How’d that happen, Bill?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’m just stumped.”
squirrel: *points gun*
me: what do you want me to do?
squirrel: *gestures at sign*
me: alright, i get it *opens book drop*
squirrel: *makes hurry-up motion*
me: NOT A SQUIRREL!
i guess his teacher was really pissed
“Haha! That’s ridic-” Bill started to say, but his words trailed off as an heirloom sprang from behind a tree, sinking its fangs deep into his neck.
when i mistake a brief silence during an argument with my wife as my turn to speak
gonna be sporting and give tim a five minute head start
Nervously, I close the bag. “No way,” I tell myself. “It’s not like she’s gonna count the fries.” I start to sweat.
don’t do it sharon, it’s a trap
oh ffs josh did you not read the email
obviously, you’d be a fool not to get two
“Just be patient, Liam. The dude in the Tahoe is a heart attack waiting to happen.”
there’s probably a fee though
