*gets up off bed*
*puts pants back on*
Oh…so you…you wanted ACTUAL tacos then?
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*dipping a tortilla chip into an active volcano*
Me: This salsa is spicy
I’d be fine with a ghost in the house if each time a message in blood appeared on a wall it was something helpful like YOU’RE OVERCOOKING THE SALMON.
Thinking about that guy who challenged all the witches on TikTok to hex him so he could prove magic isn’t real and every time he updated saying his life was going fine, witches would get so upset they weren’t able to kill a man with their mind like Professor X
People to panhandlers: Get a job, you lazy bum
People to ducks: Who has free bread for you? Is it me? Yes, it is
OMG! How did you get all of those bruises?
Me: [flashback, crashing into dresser trying to zip skinny jeans] I slipped on the ice.
Recruiter (calling me at work): Are you able to talk?
Me: Since the age of two.
People often say to me ‘Please stop making up stories in an effort to become popular’ and to them I say ‘I can’t help it. My mother was Jessica Fletcher’.
We only cook with fresh, local ingredients so tonight we’re grilling our neighbor’s cat.
Boys have dad bods
Men have father figures
I jumped out of bed at 6am trying to catch the ice cream truck because I heard the music in a dream… so now I’m awake and I have no ice cream, this is bullshit
Spiders were super disappointed when they finally saw the world wide web.
If you think a 30 sec ad is bad try waiting until news at 11 to “find out what’s been poisoning your family”
[Opportunity knocks]
Me: I’m not answering. You should’ve sent a text first.
If you leave me a voice mail that asks me to call you back at my convenience you have no one to blame but yourself.
“Sorry, we can’t sell you one jalapeño for 35 cents. But we can sell you a plastic-wrapped styrofoam tray with 8 jalapeños on it for $2.99. Then you can use the one jalapeño you need, and let the rest go moldy in the fridge for a couple weeks before you toss them out.”
therapist: describe this picture
me: that’s my father yelling at me
therapist: and this one
me: you having sex with my wife
therapist: and this one
me: aren’t these normally ink blots
Amazon review: Amazon river
⭐☆☆☆☆DO NOT GO HERE! Everything tries to kill you, plus they don’t even have free shipping.
My spirit animal is an upturned turtle.
I hate it when I catch SpongeBob halfway through and I can’t follow the plot
You can also leave cabbage rolls you couldn’t finish at any fire station. Anything swaddled really.
I’ll probably stop watching “The Crown,” now that I know how it ends.
The difference between a hippo and a zippo is that one is really heavy and the other is a little lighter. Thank you, g’nite.
harsh writing advice: you’re not a writer if you aren’t making up your own words. if you’re just taking preexisting words and mixing up the order to form sentences and stories? you’re a DJ
It’s almost like someone got the entire past year wet and fed it after midnight.
I don’t understand why people want a sandwich after sex. I just want my money back.
FRIEND: so how are you?
ME: I’m well, thanks!
FRIEND: what’s new?
ME: not much!
FRIEND: well, what have you been up to?
ME: why are you doing this to me
*drops some peanut butter on the table*(stares at it)
Husband: You’re not going to eat that, are you?
Me: NO! *eats it*
There should be a place on the organ donor card that lets you leave your middle finger to a person you hate.
Decided to use the classic celebrity break up picture torn in half method to announce that my cat no longer likes these treats.
Hot girls tweet things like “his words. my curves. pain. my soul. barbecue sauce” and get 27k likes WTF is this app