I like to stand next to a stranger on the elevator and whisper, “I read what you said on the internet.”
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Nickelback jokes are the Nickelback of jokes.
Can we go skydiving on our first date? I want to hear what you sound like when you think you might die.
-me, flirting
It’s only natural to want to let your children learn from their own mistakes and work their way out of difficult situations, but after being under a stool for several minutes I picked my Roomba, Alice, up and relocated her because I couldn’t handle that banging another second.
Her: My baby is 28 months old.
Me: Oh really? I’m 74 inches tall.
Not so fun when YOU have to do the math, is it?
Pilot: welcome aboard
Fighter pilot: [right hook]
5yo: knock knock
Me:
5: Mom, knock KNOCK
Me:
5: I said KNOCK KNOCK!!
Me: Sorry, you know how I feel about answering the door, buddy.
[Inventor of the plow]
I’m gonna stab that field
The barista can’t deal with the man’s ‘Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ shirt.
Her mouth opens, then closes.
The line grows.
The first thing I’m going to do when I’m rich is buy an airline flight for everyone who works at the DMV and then delay the flight forever.
Just overheard someone say “it’s Friday somewhere” lmao. Like… it’s just… not.
15: ‘I think the Wi-Fi is out again.’
Me: ‘Hey – what a great opportunity to go outside and enjoy some fresh-‘
15: ‘It’s back.’
Me: ‘Good talk.’
He lifts up my shirt only to have a full serving of broccoli fall out, steamed to perfection
*washes your smart car with a moist towelette*
i love making the whole conversation so awkward that the most anyone can say after is “so yeah…”
I’m so sick of unexpected character deaths for shock value. This is a terrible pilates video.
That scene in Pulp Fiction where Vincent revives Mia by stabbing her in the chest with an adrenaline shot, except it’s me on a Saturday morning when my kid shoves his finger in my nostril to wake me up.
My alter ego is Wander Woman because my superpower is forgetting why I walk into rooms.
I’m getting really good at raising my eyebrow to communicate the concept of “that’s not six foot”.
I learnt it from various women who were communicating a similar message in a very different context.
[unhooks bra on 3rd try]
“Sir, please don’t touch the mannequins.”
Cop: *searching my car*
“WHERE IS IT?
I KNOW IT’S HERE!”Me: *trying to swallow a Nickelback cd*
“IT’S NOT MINE, I SWEAR!”
How much for the vacation home?
Sir, this is a coffin.
It was only a three dollar bottle of Chardonnay, but we partied like it was $19.99
Husband: Why are there two broken condoms on the backseat?
Wife: Please stop calling our kids that.
Nice try, self check out lanes. There’s not even any mirrors.
Gazing at nature’s majesty, I am one with the woods. This is where I belong, I muse as I’m drilled with a paintball and promptly eliminated
Let’s all bow our heads and pray for my husband who very tragically asked me what I did all day.
{bedazzling my new tee shirt}
DO NOT RESUSCITATE
So many chores, so many kids to do them for me
I wonder if those folks that wrote “Never change!” in my yearbook regret their choice of words.
Words can not even begin to describe your beauty and how much I need to borrow your car.