Everyone on this flight acting like they’ve never seen anyone peel a sack of hard boiled eggs before.
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God: you have eight legs.
Spider: do I-do I need eight legs?
God: tbh no one really needs eight of anything.
Spider:
God:
Spider:
God: also you have eight eyes.
[terrible nursing home]
Old guy: How did you end up here?
Elderly me: I made my kids steak instead of hot dogs.
Him: *gasps* You monster.
The second cup of coffee does for me what a can of spinach does for Popeye.
wife: where are the beans?
me: i made phones with the cans.
wife: can i talk to you in the kitchen?
small voice echoing from the kitchen: you can now.
“You’re in no position to be making demands.”
[does a handstand]
“Company helicopter & 2 months extra vacation.”
“Fair enough.
*personally visits the 7 friends who continually trap me in a rather chatty text message group & punches each of them in the face*
I was the most patient parent and then I had kids.
I’m at my most cat-like when I’m starting a roll of toilet paper.
*draws sword*
*erases sword because it sucks*
“I’m down for whatever,” I say, before falling asleep.
College guy: [massaging head] Oh man I got so trashed last night.
Raccoon: [massaging stomach with his little raccoon paws] Me too man.
[creation of bats]
God: stretch out that mouse
SON: but I want to see my friend!
ME: buddy, I’m sorry. It’s not great right now. Mommy and Daddy can’t see our friends either.
SON: … you guys have friends?
Call Me crazy, but the ideal number of times a Pope should have once been a member of the Nazi Youth is zero.
[ brings ouija board to your grave ]
“Okay, now will you tell me why her number was in your phone?”
According to WebMD, given my symptoms, I died 9 years ago.
Walks up in da club like
“Has anyone seen my Mom? She’ll be the one trying to cover up everyone’s cleavage.”
Kudos to Backstreet boys, they really did straight up make a song that lasted almost 5 minutes about the fact that they were back.
*clicks on hotel tv’s Adult Zone*
“Oh hell yeah.”
*it’s just a bunch of people paying bills and doing yard work*
“…Oh hell yeah.”
Satan: welcome to hell, I want all of us to be friends here
Me: huh, this doesn’t seem so bad
Satan: so everyone go around in the circle and say a little bit about yourself
Me (young, foolish): refrigerator may I have a few ice cubes?
Refrigerator (old, wise): one or one-thousand, there is no few
[5:30 AM alarm goes off]
Me: Wanna have a quickie?
Wife: I have to get up in 5 minutes.
Me: Oh, so regular sex then?
WHY WRITERS ARE STARING AT NOTHING
• they’re actually working shh this is the process
• haven’t slept in 19 years so this is a power nap
• hoping a bakery will appear
• just fell down a plot hole and horror is setting in
• about to scream
• any second now
• oh here they go
Waiter: pumpkin pie?
Me: ok, …. darling
BOSS: quit listening to Vanilla Ice, participate in the meeting, and pay attention
ME: so… stop, collaborate, and listen?
BOSS: you’re fired
Him: how did your duel with your nemesis go?
Me: *kicks stone* we were approaching each other from a distance and I drew my sword too early and had to hold it out for ages like a doofus
me: I would hate to be the Bear of Bad News
my wife: it’s bearer of bad news not Bear of Bad News
Bear of Bad News: lady you don’t know wtf you’re talking about
person texting me: hey I’m outside
me: [covered in glue and accidentally tripping onto a pile of several thousand photos of you] uh HANG ON
How to draw a duck
Pffft. Call me when you can cut the sexual tension with a spoon.