Me: *eating oatmeal in my underwear*
Her: that’s it. I’m leaving
Me: *drinking coffee in my shoe* wh… why?
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Rather than vote, let’s all fill out the 29 dimensions of what we want in a president and let eHarmony decide.
ATTORNEY: my client would like to confess
ME: i sell human organs on the black market
JUDGE [who needs a kidney transplant]: tell me more
It’s hard to believe in God when every time I go to Subway the person in front of me has NO IDEA HOW SUBWAY WORKS.
If you breakdance you buy dance.
Wendall feverishly works on a shirt made solely out of ramen
Carrot raisin salad. When you want to eat something horrible, 3 times.
[planning heist]
leader: the security guard will take his break from 3:15 to 3:30 so that’s when you will-[notices my disapproving expression] what?
me: that’s when I take my break too tho
Horrifying if literal: armchairs
[tavern]
Jerk on stool next to me:
Which do you like better my looks or my personality?Me: I’m gonna need more options.
Tax tip: Even if it’s true, never list your dog as head of household. They’ll roll over under audit.
The Pillsbury Doughboy is a goddam monster who sacrifices his own people so that he can get a finger poke.
I was supposed to be abducted in ‘03 but my chain wallet got caught on a fire hydrant and they beamed up the squirrel I was feeding instead. God speed tiny ambassador of earth.
him: I got a new tattoo
me: what is it
him (lifting his shirt): it’s a replica of my thermos from work
me (leaning in to feel it): does it hurt
him: don’t you dare touch the thermos tat
and that how I knew he would make an excellent dad
In the hierarchy of my office, I was Pam for so many years that it’s hard to accept that I am now firmly Phyllis even though she’s obviously the coolest
This ad says: “3 out of 5 smokers die”
Apparently the other 2 become immortal.
How do you tell your spouse you were fired from SpaghettiOs for honoring Pearl Harbor Day with a smiling cartoon noodle holding a flag?
Wife: did you know the Office Depot is having a going-out-of-business sale?
Me: {sitting on a throne of post-its} I think I did hear that
A good Scotch should taste like how a haunted 17th century wardrobe smells.
Each second of this is more amazing than the last
*stands in front yard, hands on hips, giving each autumn leaf that falls on my lawn a stern, disapproving look*
I spent a lot of my childhood worrying about wearing red clothes and being chased by cows
I read a sad statistic that something like 2% of all sushi goes un-Instagrammed.
Erm I’m gonna say no
Bull: I want to show you my leather saddle
Cow: Can you not?
-50 Shades of Graze
gf: where’s that parcel from
me: amazon
gf: what’s in it
me: *bleeding* piranhas
Future generations will never have to live in unprecedented times, because we’re precedenting the Hell out of everything right now.
My kids still haven’t started school yet and I can’t wait to get them out of my house I mean get their education started.
Oh, so breakfast in bed is luxurious, but when I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, suddenly it’s “depression”
Kid: Daddy will you sing that song about the cars
Me: Sure buddy: “One of them dames was sexy as hell, I said “oh I like your size.” She said “my car’s broke down and you seem real nice, Would ya let me ride?”
Wife: I think he means wheels on the bus…
The plot thickens.
Mostly because my grave digger had no idea just how fat I was.