My bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans is empty.
In unrelated news, my daughter is swinging Tarzan-style from the ceiling lamp.
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Maybe I forgot to text back. Maybe it’s Maybelline.
me: so what do you do?
date: I work with animals
me: *imagining an office ran entirely by golden retrievers in suits* your job sounds fun
I said something about my Twitter friends to my husband yesterday and he asked me where they live (I don’t know), what they do for a living (I don’t know), if I know their last names (I do not), can I see a picture (sure!), those are cartoons, what do they really look like? (uhh)
[Lying on a bed of expensive Vitctoria’s Secret panties]
Me: This is absolutely magnificent.
[Alarm clock sounds. Wakes up on a bed of dollar store panties]
Me: This is pretty alright I guess.
I really wish I had the power to put on a crown of pipette tips and command my cultures to do what I wanted them to do 👑
What Swiss Army Knife attachment do I use to put those holes in cheese?
Once you understand they’re unwilling time travelers dropped here moments earlier, the confused actions of squirrels suddenly make sense.
Went to my uncle’s funeral today open bar pretty good food but my uncle was dead 3/5 stars
My daughter wants something “fun and not boring” for dinner tonight and I’m feeling a lot of pressure now
This egg could use more egg
– guy about to invent hollandaise sauce
my brain: knows jfc stands for Jesus Fricking Christ
also my brain: John F. Cennedy
ALSO my brain: Jentucky Fried Chicken
A tartan is what you get when you sunbathe on the asphalt
I’ve started putting my wife’s chocolate bars in the wrong wrappers.
It really gets her snickers in a twix.
THERAPIST: My suggestion for you: Therapy dog
ME: Ok
[next week]
THERAPIST: Well?
ME: They told me I don’t qualify to be a therapy dog
Happy weekend !
Hit me with your best shot came on the radio and my son sang hit me with your pet shark and damnit that’s the name of the song now.
I would like a mode of transportation that only allows me to travel a foot at a time with maximum effort requiring stellar balance.
*pogo stick inventor* I got you.
*throws a dead pigeon at jerk who cut me off in traffic*
Wife: Hun, I don’t think “flipping the bird” means what you think it means.
the sexual tension when everyone arrives at a 4-way stop at the same time
teen me: I just wanna find a girl who’s nice and pretty and smart and kind
40s me: who wants to get freaky with mayonnaise, no weirdos
[donating blood]
Me [feeling lightheaded]: I’m gonna need that back
Me: You sprained your ankle, let’s bandage it up and ice it.
Husband:
*3 hours, one x-ray and $156 later*
Doctor: You sprained your ankle, let’s bandage it up and ice it.
So apparently “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real dad!” isn’t of much use when dealing with armed cops.
mother-in-law (on FB): I’m tired of everyone being so condesending
*wife tackles me before I can write “you spelled ‘condescending’ wrong”*
My son hates how I fuss about his birthday at his workplace.
So this year the Mariachi band will not be wearing hats.
Me: “Sorry I’m late. Car trouble.”
Him: “What kind of car trouble?”
Me: “It doesn’t go 200 miles an hour to compensate for my late start.”
Any day now, there will be a country song called “(He broke up with me from) 6 Feet Apart”.
The Purge: Valentine’s Day
“When I was your age, I already owned a house”