Note to self: Never choose a company name that ends in a verb.
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So sweet. An A380 playing in the snow.
Remember folks, the more you decorate for the holidays, the more flammable your house & property. Happy Holidays!!
Soldier: The target entered a building
General: Find and detain him
Soldier: It’s… a candy cane factory
General: *slams fist* DAMN YOU WALDO
Me: *trying to handle work crisis before I’m fully awake, phone binging with apology texts from various people*
Person on phone: I’m so sorry this landed in your lap. I missed it. They missed it. We all missed it. Now it’s your problem and…Are you…did you just…growl at me?
Just so you know if you have a ‘jump to recipe’ link at the top of your food blog I hope you have a nice day and may all your hopes and dreams come true.
trying to act casual so the printer doesn’t realize this is time sensitive
Diarrhea awareness week starts today. Runs through Sunday.
Good cop “If you confess maybe we can cut you some sort of deal…”
Crab cop *walks sideways off the table*
I’m boring. I just trick people into thinking I’m interesting by always being angry.
I don’t use my hands when I change my tampon. I just sing a jaunty tune and the Disney birds come in and begrudgingly do it for me.
me in high school: oh my god I missed two hairs on my legs, I am an abomination
me today: the bug spray has lemongrass and peppermint in it so it doubles as perfume
I am the proud father of two content providers. I mean children. Two children.
[physicist excited about a misprinted real estate flyer]
“Honey, check this out! Four mathrooms!”
Saw @justinbieber on a piece of toast. Am I going to hell?
[dollar store]
Me: I would like 700 dollars, please
Day one back at school and my daughter coughed and I told her if she does that again she’s grounded
Me: Where did you find that orange sex pillow?
Play date host: That’s a gymnastics wedge. It’s for gymnastics. For my kids. Why would I keep a sex pillow in my living room at a play date?
Me:
Host:
Me: Where did you find that gymnastics wedge?
Make *almost* everyone want to murder you by talking to yourself.
Make *everyone* want to murder you by sing-talking to yourself.
All pigeons are stool pigeons if you stand under them long enough.
My husband has finally given up on the notion that he will be able to have an uninterrupted conference call when his coworkers heard me belting out “I’m Every Woman” and has moved his office to the basement.
Tall, fit, great hair, dazzling smile, good with kids, excellent swordsman, right-handed.
~ Captain Hook’s Tinder profile ~
Honk if you are flying south for the winter in a V formation.
If I can’t use finger puppets during my acceptance speech, then you can keep your Oscar.
My family using a Ouija board to summon my spirit: “Are you with us? Please, shows us you are here! Wait, it’s moving… o-m-g-w-h-a-t-d-o-y-o-u-w-a-n…”
Me: I need a minute to play with myself to get hard
Wife: *smirking* ok
Me: *pulls out my game boy*
I do not want a robot dog. I do want some sort of high-speed Wi-Fi router mobile hotspot installed in my current dog
my kid: i hope i can have school at home forever
me:
It took three nurses to pull me off of that doctor after he told me I need to give up potatoes.
I forgot the word for stylist and called it looksmith.
Oh that’s my brother, he has his own apartment upstairs