*uses Mr. Clean magic eraser to wipe off your drawn on eyebrows*
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SON: Daddy, what’s the point of this?
ME: I’m not sure there is one, son, our existence and actions are ultimately futile and meaningless
SON: No, I meant this
ME: Oh that’s a can opener
[sees shark fin swimming toward me]
Oh no
[its a boy wearing a shark fin hat]
Phew
[the boy is riding a shark]
Oh no
Stopped in a country store yesterday and they were not selling any countries. 0 out of 10. Would not recommend.
I’m really trying to care about this Queen dying but she didn’t even put out any good songs
Women’s time is different. My brother and I are still waiting for my mom to come out of the grocery store when she said it would be 30 minutes. That was 1986
DAD: when your grandpa died we planted that tree so we don’t forget him
ME: cool
[later]
TREE: You still remember grandpa chuck?
ME: yeah
TREE: cool just checkin
[Cute Girl]: *in hot tub* Hey baby. Why don’t you come join me?
[Lobster]: No I’m good over here. That’s how my dad died.
Prove you’re not a robot by typing two words that sounds like they were doodled on a toilet cubicle by a schizophrenic
one thing they don’t tell you in driving school is that it’s ok to miss your exit and get off on the next one and loop back, instead of coming nearly to a full stop in the middle of the freeway or careening across multiple lanes of traffic quickly to try to make it
Today I nearly met my end!…it was in a yoga class.
You know how you stumble to the bathroom at night keeping your eyes squeezed shut so you don’t fully wake up?
That’s the whole month of January for me
Starve a cold. Feed a fever. Humiliate a rash. Flatter a migraine. Friendzone diarrhea. Date cramps. Bring anxiety home to meet the family.
Why do Mexicans eat tamales on Christmas?
Because they’re delicious, you racist asshole.
It’s so cute how all the free sandwiches in the fridge at work have little names.
[At a One Direction concert]
No, I’m not a…I SAID NO I’M NOT A BIG ONE DIRECTION FAN I JUST HATE MYSELF AND FEEL THE NEED TO SELF PUNISH
INTERVIEWER: Tell me one of your weaknesses.
ME: I sometimes mistake professional behavior for flirting.
INTERVIEWER: There is zero chance we’d ever hire someone with that issue.
ME: Listen, I’m flattered, but I’m married.
The neighbor kid talks a lot of shit for someone who isn’t allowed to leave the yard.
I thought the English would use more sophisticated gifs but, sadly, no. Nothing Dickensian or Shakespearean. Just lots of Hugh Grant shrugging.
Ahh, birds chirping outside my window.
*lets the cat out*
*goes back to sleep*
Doctor: I’m afraid you’ve got chronic updog
Me, embarrassed that I don’t know what the word chronic means: ah well, you win some you lose some
[First day as a henchman in a video game]
Me: how about we safely store these red flammable barrels somewhere instead of using them for cover?
Me: they call me Fred Flintstone
Her: *annoyed* because you can make my bed rock?
Me: because you’re gonna turn me down and I’ll have to yabba dabba do it myself
[at a dinner party]
Me: I saw a UFO once
Wife: It was a frisbee
Me: At the park
Wife: Frisbee
Me: I took a pic
Wife: Of a frisbee in the air
Me: *shows pic*
Friend: Looks like a…
Wife: Frisbee
Sketch artist: Two criminals? You just described a vase to me
Me: Look at the negative space either side of it
Sketch artist: Holy shit…
My yoga instructor was drunk today.
Put me in a very awkward position.
I like my women like I like my ancient staircases, curvy and can send me straight to hell.
My Google search history is me checking how to spell hors d’oeuvres 3,729 times.
“Everyone says they’re voting for Clinton or Trump, but I’m voting for Regina George because she got hit by a bus.”
the moral of the Phantom of the Opera is that sometimes there’s this weird guy who is impossible to deal with
