Now that I’m on Twitter, I can finally put that English degree I obtained to some use…
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[donating blood]
Me [feeling lightheaded]: I’m gonna need that back
“Sorry, are you…?”
“Oh… no! No, I’m not, sorry…”
“Ah! That’s ok, haha, thanks, sorry”
“Sorry”Transcript of a Brit asking another Brit if they’re in the queue
Me scrolling Twitter: ok that’s enough
My brain: what if the next tweet is The One
Phone
Me: *rushed* I’ll be there but I need to get the chocolate rice crispies cereal out of my hair first
Person: How…
Me: I don’t want to talk about it
I had a friend named Nigel but after you’ve introduced him a few times the novelty wears off.
This day in history. 1810. Sweden declared war on its ally the United Kingdom initiating 2 years of fairly spiteful Christmas card exchanges.
I got kicked off Wikipedia for adding “obviously” to the end of every article.
Age 15: kids are stupid
Age 25: kids are stupid
Age 35: I love my kids but kids are stupid
During sex she said “deeper” so I rolled over and started reading her poetry.
Taco Bell: You need to loosen up.
Stools: OK!
My dog just tracked and successfully located a folium lanceolatum, more commonly known as a leaf.
Me: Welcome to McDonalds, can I take your McOrder?
McDonalds Boss: Again *rubs temples* you don’t need to put Mc in front of words
Me: Oh ok *turns back to customer* welcome to Donalds
britain’s three elite institutions
UNNATURAL ~>Homosexuality
NATURAL ~> Virgins giving birth, talking snakes, dead coming back to life, walking on water.
Confused yet?
Where the hell are all the scissors?!
– a parenting memoir
I bet Amelia Earhart is just wandering around in an IKEA somewhere.
Cashier holds up a bottle of herbal spray for hot flashes “you sure you want this it’s twelve dollars” YES I WANT IT AND I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT
Me: I spend a lot of time awake at night, asking myself things like “Why don’t dogs have belly buttons?”
Priest: Ok valid question but not a confession, per se
turns out im not nearly mature enough to hang out with someone named titi
Son: I want a quinceañera.
Me: You can’t have one
Son: Why not?
Me: Just asking this makes me realize why you failed spanish 1 last year
*ps: he is also 16*
The fact touche and douche don’t rhyme bothers me.
9: What are you going to be for Halloween dad?
me: Drunk
9: What’s mom gonna be?
me: Mad
DOG: [running in circles trying to catch his own tail] SON OF A
DOG’S PREGNANT WIFE: *looks up from knitting* Son of a what, David? Say it
I maintain neutrality in any situation by remaining clueless.
My parenting style can best be described as “Go help your sister.”
If you’re not following me and received this tweet, it’s because someone is smarter than you.
You give me something. It’s mainly indigestion and the creeps but that’s something.
Sometimes I think about Adam and Eve and how they couldn’t even get a babysitter.
It’s a doge eat doge world out there. Such cutthroat. Very survival of the fitter
[getting selected to be on a game show] do you have a satin shirt in a primary color