HR: Know why we called you down?
Me: Hmm…my trench coat?
HR: Try again.
Me: Because I’m naked under my trench coat?
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Me (as a doctor): I’m afraid you have very moderately progressing gonorrhea
Patient: what? I don’t understand
Me (starts slow clap)
My mind thinks I’m 6, and my heart thinks I’m 22, but my body knows we’ve died and reached hell.
“Doctor, doctor, I think I’m turning into a terrible pushy parent”
“Daddy, why do you keep calling me ‘doctor’?”
What if we joined gangs based on our favorite pasta shape?
I keep having to put away a lot of shoes for a family who hasn’t gone anywhere in 7 weeks.
Me: I wanna be ugly
Genie: you got 3 wishes left
[to the realtor showing me a property on sesame street] wait is that a vampire
[Work Lunchroom]
Co-worker: Man, remember when we we were poor and used to eat things like Mac n Cheese with hotdog at every meal?
Me: *slowly closing my bag lunch* *nervous chuckle* Haha. Yeah totally.
Um … Hot Wings please
Internet Company: What are your hours of availability so we can do your installation?
Me: Between 8am and 12pm
Internet Company: Great, we’ll be there between 12pm and 6pm
Bear Grylls: *waits impatiently for NASA’s call*
In Australia what doesn’t kill you is probably just saving you for the sharks.
I wish choosing a career was as easy as it is in books. Just some big dingus giant kicking down my door like “YER A PASTRY CHEF, HARRY!”
Getting a neck tattoo is probably the coolest way to show your love for manual labour.
“My mom is a total MILK.”
— 14-year old, Norman Bates
I bet my doctor wasn’t expecting to say “Sir, that is not a toy” so many times today.
Me: I hate Asian stereotypes
Also me: *hits a parked car 5 times trying to parallel park for 17 minutes while screaming math obscenities
Me: Do you like my jeans?
Her: They’d look better on my floor 😉
Me: *laying down on the floor fully dressed* OK…so now?
Her: ….
gas stations touting free air are using your tires to store excess low quality black market air don’t fall for it
forget nudes: in 2019 we’re sending pics in our fanciest attire. gauzy floral skirts. ball gowns. the kind of fur coat worn by a wealthy lady who has been thrice-widowed and hasn’t seen her fourth husband in some time.
One million people have DM’d me asking me to stop lying about the number of people who DM me.
Husband has a fancy satellite alarm that does all kinds of things by itself but today it keeps beeping every hour despite my attempts to make it stop so I’m about to find out if it’s waterproof
WIFE: we’ve be ME: er
WIFE: married so l ME: ar panels
WIFE: we com ME: puter
WIFE: each o ME: ctopus
WIFE: sen ME: ta claus
ME: nice fanny pack u weirdo
KANGAROO: *puts phone in pouch, pulls out a knife*
ME: holy shit
the casting director for “the boys” probably just left a few milkshakes out
Woman: Ever since my mom passed, I think she’s watching over me
Mom’s Ghost: Yeah, that is the kind of stupid thing you’d believe
watching the football game but shaking my head the whole time so everybody knows i disagree with it
let me be very clear: i would rather attend a Pig’s wedding than attempt to sift through the dumpster you people have made out of my dm box,
i used to think i was final girl material, but i’m actually the one who’s killed while frantically searching for her glasses
If I had to give up one of my senses what would I pick? My sense of impending doom, I guess.