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Before you start using twitter, please make sure this is really what you want to do with the rest of your life.
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me: how did he die?
him: he was trampled by a gang of elephants
me: a parade
him: no it’ll just be a regular funeral
me: it smells like updog in here
me: what’s updog
me: not much dog what’s up with you lmao
me: lol
therapist: I see
Getting married lost its appeal as soon as I figured out that acquiring a maid of honor wasn’t going to get my floors washed.
“Hey Cyclops are you still dating Jean?”
“No Storm, we broke up. You could say she’s my…”
*lowers sunglasses*
*eye beams obliterate Storm*
Certain people have been making very hurtful remarks about my choosing to wear mittens rather than gloves
But I don’t like to point fingers
Vampire: *getting impaled*
Please. My heart. It’s very stick..
Why doesn’t The Rock just tell us what he’s cooking? I can’t pair wines like this.
I found your suicide note and corrected some grammatical errors. You’re good to go.
At drop off, 5’s teacher said “good morning sweetheart” and 5 replied “mummy made fish for dinner last night and it was disgusting” then she skipped inside to tell Freya all about it
Me: get behind me Satan!
Satan: not tonight, I’ve got a headache
A colleague suggested I clone myself so I can take on more work, but I don’t think it’s fair to ask my husband to put up with any more of me.
“Red Hot Riding Hood” (1943)
A sequence so famous (or infamous, if you’re the censors) that it’s been replicated, homaged or outright ripped off in countless pieces of animation. The reaction shots of the Wolf are still as funny as they were 80 years ago.
“I’m sorry but it’s only 7 items or less in the dressing rooms”
[octopus glove shopping] “this is unacceptable”
I like my women like I like my bamboo: graceful, strong, and constantly in threat of being eaten by pandas.
*wakes up drenched in sweat*
WAS BINGO THE FARMER OR THE DOG?
remember when you could lay in one position for hours, now you have to rotate like a rotisserie chicken every 15 minutes or a hip hurts.
Them: Who is your favorite…
Me: My dog
Them: No, I wasn’t finished. I meant, who is your favorite…
Me: My dog
to the spirits in my walls: going to the store be right back.
Me: Here you go.
Her: WTF?
Me: It’s the genital mold you wanted.
Her: I said gelatin mold!
Me: *waddles away with pants around ankles*
When I lift one of my dog’s muddy paws to clean it he acts like he’s gonna fall down. DOG YOU STILL GOT 3 LEGS. I ONLY GOT 2
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again bc I have a terrible memory
My house is like an Indiana Jones movie.
Partly because I walk around with a bullwhip, but mostly because of all the cobwebs.
You can tell me any plot of land is an acre and I will have no choice but to believe you.
Nancy Drew and the mystery of is this water or pee
– book #1 of parent series
I’m not heartless. It’s just in a different purse at the bottom of the closet.
Fun fact: you don’t need to be naked to thumb wrestle. Or oiled up
I don’t trust my arms or legs like I trust my hips
my hips don’t lie but but the rest of my body parts are bullshiters
Them: The meek shall inherit the earth
the meek: *looks around* umm, I’m good
Strange to think that exactly four years ago at the start of lockdown in the UK we all began stockpiling pasta, yeast and toilet paper. Those were some of the worst meals I’ve ever eaten.
That sure is a big fat burrito you got there, be a shame if someone snapped a pic just as you were about take a bite then photoshopped a baby over it.