I can’t undo my mistakes. All I can do is make more mistakes and hope the original one gets diluted.
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Me: Why don’t we have a nice, romantic bubble bath?
Him: Sounds amazing*flash forward*
Him: I thought we’d be taking the bubble bath together
Me: (from the other tub) My tub is too small for two, you know that. And say “over” when you’re done talking on the walkie, babe
You look like the type of person who would try to write a check for a drug deal.
Person: so, how are we today?
Me: well, I dunno about you, but I’m fine, thanks
Me: You’re SURE you know how to cut hair?
Wife: I told you I watched a YouTube video
My son hates how I fuss about his birthday at his workplace.
So this year the Mariachi band will not be wearing hats.
When I get cold in a movie theater, I pull a CVS receipt out of my purse and use it as a blanket.
“It’s all fun and games until someone loses an i”
– the Pixar Logo
Netflix is asking every five minutes if we’re still watching and I think it must be suffering from separation anxiety now that people are going outside again.
Controlling my life lately has been like trying to fit an alligator for a retainer.
Today I learned that while playing vintage Mario Bros, screaming “GO DOWN” when you can’t get Mario to go in the pipe leads to some awkward questions when your parents overhear you.
Friend: She really likes you.
Me: Oh yeah?
Friend: She thinks you hung the moon.
Me: *who has been plotting for years to strangle the moon* Not yet.
Boss: I need that report by noon
Me: Consider it done[2pm]
Boss: Where’s that report?
Me: Huh? I thought we’d agreed to consider it done?
Barney: [skipping pebbles across the lake]
Fred: MY DAUGHTER!
therapist: what do you see
me: Snoopy
therapist: this one?
me: Charlie Brown trying to kick a football
therapist: I see. and now?
me: Lucy moved the ball
therapist: wtf this is the wrong book
My doctor says I shouldn’t brush my teeth. I guess that’s why he’s not a dentist
If I were in a mob movie, my role would be “the fishes”, so everyone would end up sleeping with me.
My version of dry January is just trying to see if I can get through the month without any poopcidents. So far it’s been an epic fail.
People pass a joint around like it’s no big deal, but the minute I ask someone to do that with their Subway sandwich, I’m a weirdo.
For my morning walk, I’m not blasting music into my brain. You are not going to hear anything more lovely them the way the birds sound today and also I can’t get my earbuds to work.
That feeling when you take the first bite of your favourite food, that’s called chewphoria.
it was the busta rhymes, it was the wursta rhymes
Husband: You don’t need to wear makeup, babe.
Me: (dressed as a witch) Thanks.
GREAT WHITE SHARK: *Jumps out of water & eats seal*
JUST OK WHITE SHARK: *Frantically waves flipper to try & get seaweed off but can’t*
A moment of silence please for the bottle of wine I just dropped.
It was a tragic accident.
Gone too soon.
absolutely love it when i spend all morning crafting an email so professional and precise it is essentially endorsed by the better business bureau only for dave from accounts payable to reply “ok” in size 45 comic sans
Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush plays as the camera pans to me chasing an ice cream truck in my flip flops.
The kids won’t stop running around so I stuck swiffer wet jet sheets to their socks so at least the floor is getting clean while I sip my tea.
people in fantasy novels absolutely love removing from their knapsack some bread and hard cheese
Taking phone security to the next level.