Either way, I don’t think we should let Shrodinger near any more cats.
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I’ll take all that stuff you’re giving up for lent.
Welcome to Alzheimer’s Club
I see a lot of new faces today
*First Passover*
The Lord: And you shall consume the meat of the lamb this same night, eating it roasted with unleavened bread and bitter herbs
Me: Like a gyro?
The Lord: Not exactly…
Me: HEY EVERYBODY GOD SAYS WE’RE HAVIN GYROS
If elves make shoes, cookies and toys, why don’t we put them in charge of more stuff
My kid didn’t like how his stuffed animal was behaving, so he renamed him Not-Listening-Ostrich, and I’m just over here wondering how to update some birth certificates
I’m going to a dinner tonight for my husband’s work and he said, “Tonight I need you to be charming and funny and do not tweet about this.”
0 for 3 so far.
You’re probably wondering how I tweet so much while maintaining a loving marriage and two amazing kids. The key is neglect.
I just found out my husband doesn’t pronounce the j in pendulum
How long can one listen to a kid talk before it’s officially considered a hostage situation?
My husband says I have no idea how to use a comforter which is funny because when I wake up in the middle of the night I’m the only one using it.
Thank God all of Texas can un-pucker again while they sleep.
I scare off men like I’m some kind of evil clown hiding in their closet.
“I’m not a clown!” I shouted as I sniffed his sweater vest.
I had no idea we were still brushing our teeth.
You must first feel comfortable in someone else’s skin before you can feel comfortable in your own.
–Psycho Therapy
When I’m angry I drink more coffee. That way I’m still angry but I also have to poop.
Good news: Your wit is really mind-blowing
Bad news: It’s not my mind that I want blown
People who say they are “comfortable in their own skin,” scare me because I wonder how they know what it’s like to wear someone else’s skin
I would have become a Hare Krishna
if only I had the chants.
Call me crazy but “dropping the ball” does not sound like a good way to start off a new year.
I throw open the heavy doors to reveal a vast library. You scan the seemingly endless volumes, realizing too late & with gnawing dread that the collection in its entirety is comprised of 1980s-era microwave cookbooks as I close & lock the doors behind me.
When I borrow books about WW2 the librarian doesn’t assume I’m planning to invade Poland, so why does she eye me like I’m researching how to be a better serial killer if I take out something on guys like Ed Gein or Ted Bundy?
Me: *Sweeping*
Wife: Excuse me
Me: *Slams broom on floor* YOU SHALL NOT PASS
Wife: …
Me: That’s from lord of
Wife: MOVE!
Me: *Moves*
I still giggle when i get in an Elevator and someone asks me “Going Down? ” as i am so tempted to say to them “Buy me dinner first”.
I don’t need lip fillers. I have two toddlers constantly head-butting me.
*watching someone make a cake*
them: and now add the mascarpone
me: ah yes, the one that hides the horses
Fact: In the 80s nobody could have sex until someone started playing a saxophone.
[someone kicks a dumpster out of anger]
ME (from inside): Who is it?
Me: I think you’re going to be sick tonight.
My 9yo: *eating their fifth dinner* Why do you think that?
Him: Are you mad?
Her: typing
Her: typing
Her: typing
Her: typing
Her: typing
Her: typing
Her: typing
Her: typingHer: No, I’m fine, why?
“But your honor, what about all the people my client didn’t kill?”