I’m getting old. I wake up now and my body is like…
Bladder: better hurry up!
Back: woah, no sudden movements!
Foot: CRAMP!
Head: ouch, did we drink last night?
Neck: CRAMP!
Back: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SUDDEN MOVEMENTS!
Bladder: um, so I’ve got some news…
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Dean Martin: Oh, the weather outside is frightful.
The weather: *reads my credit card bill*
My Shakespeare brings all the boys to the yard
And they’re like
We’re gonna kick your ass fancy boy
I’m at that age where all my friends have husbands and babies and all I’ve got is time and money.
@funTweeters thanks so much!! 😘
Me: Doctor, I’m not ready to be a father yet.
Doctor: Your daughter is 10.
Occasionally I just fall behind on something people are talking about and make a note to catch up when I have time. I’m off work this week and now understand that NYT Connections is not a dating app.
Found my cat’s phone, just hundreds of photos of me sleeping. Weird.
-Sorry I was sick and missed your party.
-It’s next Saturday.
-Sorry I’m going to get sick and miss your party.
Used dog shears to trim my split ends. This is a beauty account now.
Curling seems like the kind of game Mr. Miyagi would’ve made up to trick Daniel into cleaning his floors.
The neighbor woke me up with his lawn mower. I’m going to sit outside and play my recorder all day.
I can only please one person a day, and i already pleased myself this morning.. so y’all are screwed!
[At a restaurant]
*phone rings*
Ugh, these are way worse than onion rings.
Year 2055. Twitter dot com is downloaded into your head as a sentient being program. You post tweets via thought. People still manually RT.
When you forgot you made garlic sauce with the sour cream, and then proceed to bake banana bread.
Anyone want some garlic banana bread?
Waiter: pumpkin pie?
Me: ok, …. darling
[after the apocalypse]
God: *counting souls* I’ll trade you a podcaster for an uber driver
Satan: *unwrapping his third social media influencer* no way man
[Sister puts my newborn nephew in my arms]
Me *holds for 30 seconds*: Well, I better get going.
Here’s my plan. I infiltrate a therapist networking group on Facebook. I ask questions about “my client” to gather their advice. There is no client. It’s me in a cheap wig. I get free therapy from 468 professionals. I fix myself. Then I start a podcast.
Professor X: What’s your power?
Me: I can turn ice into cats.
Professor X: That’s ridiculous.
Police: [busting in] You’re all under arrest!
Me: I got this!
Polecats: Sonofa…
When people see ghosts, why aren’t they naked? Do clothes die and become ghosts too?
CASHIER: its declined
ME: run it again
C: sir, is this one of those fake credit cards they mail out
ME: no
C: your name is “local resident”?
WIFE: Your heavy drinking is making you delusional
ME: *turns to friend* Do you think that’s true?
WOLVERINE: Nah, don’t listen to her
*throws dash of glitter in with the credit card bill* payback, baby
[immigration hall]
Agent: are you traveling for business or pleasure?
Me, after flying 8 hours for revenge: both
I always ask Subway workers if THEY want double meat, then wink.
Then I get kicked out.
What did Jay-Z call Beyoncé before they got married?
Feyoncé…
Shout out to authentic Indian restaurants that encourage eating using only the hands.
They don’t give a fork.
I wish young people would stop idealising future dystopias and start enjoying the one they’re in.
“Dad, I don’t feel good.”
“Do you want to go see the doctor?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you gonna throw up?”
“Maybe.”
“OK. We’ll take your mom’s car.”