*tries to lift dumbbell
Trainer: COME ON! IT’S NOT THAT HEAVY!
Me: I know, it’s just this KFC grease making it slip
“What if Waldo finds me first?” I ask naively. Grandma closes the book; the blood drains from her face. “Don’t let that happen,” she warns.
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At my funeral, I’m stipulating in my will that after the eulogy is read the crowd can have 15 minutes for rebuttal, just to be fair.
Brenda was so embarrassed. She thought the invitation was for a panic in the park. She will be apologizing for the potato salad incident for a long time.
Whatever, low battery indicator. You’re not the boss of
I still can’t believe someone was hungry enough to try kale.
this lipgloss is called mcdonalds hash brown
“It puts the lotion on its skin…”
— me buttering a baked potato
*moves $124 to an offshore bank account*
My neighbor’s 2yo is on my front lawn shouting NO NO NO NO. Not sure what she’s protesting but I’m gonna go join her.
Revenge is never the answer, but sometimes drawing wrinkles on their voodoo doll just feels right