People who think I’m boring should see the Excel spreadsheet I’ve designed to present all the data to the contrary. The macros alone will convince you.
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Her: I want you to kill my ex but make it seem like an accident
Me: say no more
[Later]
Detective: looks like the killer beat him to death with a crowbar and then placed a banana peel by his feet
“so u have no idea what started the fire” the fireman looks at me. i shake my head no. i nervously fidget with my recipe for a thrice baked potato behind my back
Boss: I hope you didnt think about work while you were on vacation
Me: I don’t even think about it when I’m here
Her: Your life just doesn’t seem to have a direction.
Me: “Down” is a direction, Brenda.
Me: I wish my life was like a Disney movie
Genie: *snaps fingers*
Me: …what changed?
Genie: your mom was shot in the woods
Her: Oh, a handsome man like you must be used to compliments.
Me: Yes, but do go on…
I sure do wish my gasts would stop getting flabbered
There’s really no good explanation when a friend sees a ruler sitting on the end table next to your bed.
I made the cutest little Easter baskets with leaves and fronds. My neighbor is still wondering who sawed off the top of his palm tree.
After watching HGTV, my husband and I have decided to become dog walkers so we can increase our house hunting budget to 4 million.
In my DMs there are people saying I’m a shit doctor because I want to lose weight, and I’m thinking wow the public needs to be educated about the various roles in healthcare.
I’m a cancer doctor. A shit doctor is called a gastroenterologist. Follow for more insider info.
*watches an extremely cute guy flirt with an equally cute girl at the gym from the floor above like an old witch on a mountain*
Your car will never make that noise for the mechanic. Your car is like “That’s our special noise. I only make that noise for you.”
Women have all the answers to all your questions.
And you don’t even have to ask.
Having hot lemon water every morning is definitely working. I’ve never felt more arrogant.
Imagine you get murdered and some girl skips your episode of forensic files because it’s boring.
Friend: Dude, you need to get into her pants.
Me: [imagining how soft her leggings would feel over my thighs] YES
Them: Why are you late?
Me: I’m not allowed to run over cyclists.
My bank doesn’t feel I’m doing enough to clear my debt but I think they should give me more credit.
Me attempting to flirt: So do you also like eating food?
Your face is perpetually itchy now that you’re not supposed to touch it.
It’s science.
My neighbors are organizing something called a “fun run”. This shit never happened when I lived in my car.
I’m not sure where you ladies go to learn how to argue, but that place is good
My parents were tough and raised us right. If we needed to pay bribes for me to go to an Ivy League college, they definitely would have made me work, save, and pay the bribes myself.
I’m trying to explain myself less often because:
*two hour explanation of why I won’t be explaining myself anymore*
And that’s why I’m gonna be explaining myself less often.
[You’re at Gwyneth Paltrow’s house and the power goes out]
NO. DEAR GOD, NO!
[I find a mysterious note in kitchen]
“LEAF 1 MILLLION UNMARKD DOG TREETS N BAKYARD BY SONDOWN OR WE RELEASH PICHURES OF U PETTIN A CAT”
Every marriage has one person who is good at putting laundry away and one person who puts my black tights in a kitchen drawer with the dish towels.
Choose your pet name wisely because you’ll be yelling it out in your neighborhood if you lose them.
*uses falsetto voice*
MR. SMOOCHES!!
You can’t touch this.
You can’t touch this.
You can’t touch this.
You can’t touch this.Lyrics to a beloved 90s hit, or parent to an over-curious toddler? The world may never know.