Man: I love curvy women
Curvy Woman: has tummy rolls, thighs touch, cellulite
Man: no, not like that
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Meet Brian, my monkey butler. He’s gonna help out around the office.
*Monkey flinging office equipment out the window*
Brian hates clutter.
yes… yes…
Your dog is hyper if he skips his afternoon walk.? Oh please. You should see my raccoon after a can of Mountain Dew.
Breaking news:
15 wants his new GF over for dinner Sunday. I’m going to make spaghetti & watch them try to eat it gracefully. Free entertainment!
Not today, today.
Not today.
what happens if the bachelor chooses to love himself
I’ve been in Hawaii for a week & have learned that 99% of life’s problems can be solved by throwing a coconut at it
If someone asks if I have time to talk about Jesus I tell them yes but they have to give me an equal amount of time to talk about Ducktales.
You look like the kind of person who touches garden gnomes appropriately.
Took my dog to the vet this morning. There was a dog named “snot.” Wtf is wrong with people! 😡
waiter: do you need a minute to look over the menu?
me, researched it online: yes please
modern skincare be like “the best way to have good skin is to destroy the skin you already have. here put some acid on it, burn that shit right off”
Before you commit to a dog name, go outside at 6:30 AM with no bra on and see how it feels begging that name to poo.
I grounded my kid from electronics for a week and now he won’t stop talking to me and I think I’ve made a horrible mistake.
Sure you may FEEL old, but did YOUR parents need a TV commercial to remind them you existed?
[Calling doctor’s office]
Lady: When is your child’s birthday?
Me: *panic* click
“I’m going to show off my new belt by tucking in my T-shirt” -Men over 50.
[baby taking first step]
ME: OMG! He’s doing it!
BABY: My name is Steve and I’m an alcoholic
a nightmare where I’m performing disney on ice – but I don’t know how to do it, so I panic and just fireman-carry my partner around the arena for the entire seven and a half minute song, serenaded by the boos of furious children
I’m just a girl, standing in front of a mirror, asking to be possessed by a poltergeist that loves to clean and fold laundry.
I may mix up my idioms but I know one thing: You can’t throw a book by its cover.
My cat just wrote the Great American Novel. Let me read you a page, “Meow meow meow meow meow meow.” Dunno, think it’s a little pretentious.
Yesterday’s me was confident enough to pack a bikini. Today’s me now has to live with that poor decision.
“Everything in moderation,” I whisper as I pour my 8th cup of coffee.
If you’re asking me to choose sides, I’ll always choose potato salad.
When a fancy lady told me she was from an upscale neighborhood, I stared at her, mouth agape and said, ‘Oh shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’ She didn’t like that at all.
Bananas evolved to become a deadly slipping hazard for their greatest predator, the human
8 yo: “Mommy, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
Me: “Not this tired.”
I’m down 10 lbs since Christmas and all I did was drink more water and stop eating gingerbread houses.