Just ordered a chicken and an egg from Amazon.
Will keep you posted.
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Jesus: Listen guys, why has someone written ‘nail appointment’ in my diary?
Judas: No idea, J. No idea.
My rapper name is Chick P cause I mostly just hum about us.
*takes off hat*
“I’m afraid I have some bad news ma’am”
*puts on her hat*
“I’ve stolen your hat”
not being able to fall asleep is so embarrassing. All I’m asking my brain to do is nothing and it can’t even do that?
CEO: It’s got wheels
Inventor: It’s the best we could do
CEO: You had 30 yrs
I:
CEO: Put “may not hover” on the box and get out of my sight
me: this english class is stupid who needs grammar
{ 15 years later }
me, leaning to lawyer: what the hell is a sentence
[batteries in my TV remote die for the first time since I bought it 4 years ago]
“Useless piece of shit.”
“Oh, I get it!”
– Me, when I didn’t get it.
[Testing Cat-Human Translator]
Scientist: Cat, what is your name?
Cat: I AM KANG THE DESTROYER
Owner: It’s not working. His name is Socks.
still burning off that Cinnabon i ate in 1997
Merlin: What now?
Lawyer: I’d advise you to turn yourself in to the police
Officer Merlin: Ok, and now?
nice challenge
McDs: to recap, that is 6 McMuffins and 8 hash browns
Me: yep
McDs:. Great, give us a few minutes and we’ll bring it out to your family
Me: my what now?
“That’s what” – She
I saw this sign two days ago and I can’t stop thinking about ‘Worse’
Your house is not haunted, there’s a raccoon in your attic. And that is much, much worse.
Every day Facebook tells me I have memories and wants to show them to me. It’s like they have no appreciation for the cost or the amount of liquor I needed to erase them.
My IQ used to be higher than my weight, but now I’m fat and dumb.
Due to the current economic situation, I’ve decided to start a dating site for chickens.
It’s not my full time job.
I’m just doing it to make hens meet.
overheard my 7yo telling a friend he speaks Italian but what the friend doesn’t know is to my son speaking Italian just means shouting “ITSA ME! MARIO!”
Therapist: let’s work on some realistic expectations
Me: *still straining to lift a tissue box using the Force*
Me: “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”
Her:
Me: “I SAID, DID IT HUR-”
Medic: “Step aside sir”
When angered, the female can text message at speeds of up to 1,600 words per minute.
I wish my therapist followed me on Instagram so she could see that I baked a cool loaf of bread, proving that I’m fine and there’s nothing wrong with me.
Me, scrolling to find my birth year
I stab myself a little bit every day to slowly build up an immunity to being stabbed to death.
Sorry, ma’am. I’m a solid 4 1/2. You’re an 8. You’re out of my league.
[campfire]
Me: (flashlight to face) “af” didn’t exist.
Millennials: (gasp)
Me: We had to use “adverbs.”
(one faints)
My soul is possessed by fried chicken.
I’m always surprised when heavily tattooed couples have a baby and it comes out blank