The bad news is there was a lot of turbulence on my flight this morning. The good news is my phone counted it as steps.
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I love pictures of my children because they don’t talk back.
My personal history can best be understood as a series of catastrophes.
On bad days I like to take a pregnancy test to remind myself that things could be much worse.
I’m sorry I whispered “a weem a way” over and over during your jungle safari slide show…
*Cleans house*
*looks at family*
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave”
May rob a bank just to get a few short, sweet years away from the kids.
I could never be in the mob.
The only gun I like is a glue gun. Is there a crafting mafia?
Maybe I’ll start one.
*blows glitter in your eye*
Never go against the family.
Celine DiOn
*claps twice*
Celine DiOff
I feel this pandemic is the worst group project I’ve ever been a part of in my entire life for real.
Funny you should ask, I do have extra body bags.
Well, my grandmother will be happy to know that Gypsies are not as much of a threat as she anticipated.
SORRY MISTER, BUT MOM SAYS I CAN’T GET IN YOUR VAN UNLESS THE CANDY’S SUGAR-FREE.
I trimmed all the bushes in the front yard to make my house look bigger.
what’s wrong babe? you’ve barely touched your charcuberie
Like most major sports injuries, almost all Rock, Paper, Scissors injuries occur because of insufficient stretching before the match.
If I was on trial and the prosecutor was like, “that man is the murderer!” and pointed at me so the jury all turned their attention toward me, I’d have a hard time not waving at them.
Guys? How do you spell ‘in your window’? Like when someone is flirting inappropriately and is making sexual in your window?
My single friends are always talking about clubbing and being hit on. Today’s social scene sounds so violent.
Guy doing yoga
Me: Poser!
A dating app where they just match you up with somebody with an identical credit score is yours
I successfully hid chocolate chip cookies from my children, making today’s parenting score:
Kids: 43,290
Mom: 1
Amazon: your package will be delivered on Wednesday
me: WHEN IS THAT
“Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”
Him: Can you forgive me?
*mental montage of me trying to figure out who this guy is*
Me: Yes, but I’m really hurt so please give me time.
We have Life cereal. How is it that some marketing hack hasn’t come up with a cereal for Goths, called Death?
Once upon a midnight dreary, While I pondered my next mealy, Came an empty tapping, a rapping at my pantry door. Quoth the Ramen “ever poor”
Operator: 911
Me: My wife is going into labor, what do I do?
O: Relax sir, is this her first born?
Me: No, this is her husband.
Me: “Oh no, it’s Scream!”
Ghostface: “It’s actually Ghostface.”
Me: {Being stabbed} “Scream, stop!”
My job sucks but it pays the bills.
Too bad I can’t say the same things about my boyfriend.