1995: I will make multiple trips to the post office and mail off blank cassettes just so I can get a barely audible bootleg of a phish show months later

2022: I will pay 47 dollars for a single chicken sandwich to be delivered so I don’t have to put on pants

You Might Also Like


Me: I snuck in my own candy and a drink
Her: This is a funeral home
Me: Without a snack bar


I was at a Hanukkah party at my uncle’s house and one of my cousins was like, “hey look it’s bitcoin” and held up a piece of gelt that he’d taken a bite out of


Current anger level: I am last-beer-in-the-fridge-turns-out-to-be-a-soy-sauce-bottle angry.


1st wise man: I brought gold for the baby

2nd wise man: [hiding frankincense behind his back] actually that gold is from both of us


“i am trapped in a loveless marriage help me obi-wan you’re my only hope” “use divorce, luke”


[at pet store]

“This tortoise’s shell keeps going soft. Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, it happens. It’s just a reptile dysfunction.”


My husband and I talked about getting a divorce, but neither one of us wants the kids.


For fun I like to text all the men in my phone, “she has your eyes, can’t wait for you to meet her” and then I sit back and wait.


I’m starting to think the Hangover Fairy and the Angel of Death are the same person.