For the love of God, if you leave me a voicemail, don’t just say “Call me back.” Tell me what it’s in regards to so I can prepare my defense
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Bread: For when you want to wrap your food with other food, then eat it.
Tried to touch my husband’s face and he tattled on me to his mother.
Basically, my plan is to have a gender reveal party and shoot someone in the face with a potato cannon. No, I’m not pregnant.
The toughest test in a marriage is interpreting the statement, “Don’t get me anything for Christmas.”
I gotta go grocery shopping. I’m the only snack left in the house.
There should be a tv game show where couples have to scroll through every streaming service looking for something they both want to watch and if time runs out, they get divorced.
Some things in life are inevitable. Birth. Death. My husband storing everything he owns in a massive pile next to his side of the bed.
*looks at the customer behind me in the checkout line*
“Wanna hold hands while we wait?”
INSURANCE REP: I’m afraid you’re going to need more coverage
ME: sorry I couldn’t find my pants this morning
[at ultrasound]
Wife: omg so what is it?
Me: it’s a baby.
Wife: I know that.
Me: then why did you ask?
Wife:
Doctor: yes then why did you ask?
I don’t like coconut so I don’t eat coconut. I don’t follow coconut around criticizing its texture or taste or tweets or sense of humor.
DeBeers ad: *Close up of eyes tearing up then a block of parmesan reggiano – man gets down on one knee*
This year, let them know it’s forever with an investment of 3 months salary in cheese.
I was up way earlier than normal and I couldn’t find my cat. I walked around the neighborhood and found him being fed by a lady a few houses down. She had a different name for him and everything. He’s been living a double life. I feel so betrayed.
The seven year old I work for just informed me my haircut makes my hips look wider, so I have that going for me.
*jolts awake*
*frantically searches around*WAIT A MINUTE!
THIS FEELS LIKE ONLY 47 PILLOWS!
I know exactly how President Obama feels. Every time my kids are forced to listen to me, they make angry Republican faces.
HUNGOVER IN YOUR 20s
[takes tylenol and goes about the day]
HUNGOVER IN YOUR 30s
[writing letter] Dearest Penelope, I fear this may be the final time I am blessed to feel the warmth of the sun upon my breast. I grow more weary by the moment, and prospects for survival are slim
The kitchen trash will be overflowing and my kids will keep stacking garbage on top like they’re playing Jenga.
A year ago I moved the silverware to a more convenient location in the kitchen, and every day for the last year I’ve been conveniently opening the wrong drawer.
I don’t whisper sweet nothings.
I yodel them.
Abraham Lincoln is trending. Congrats to his social media team.
I have a tenuous grasp on the English language. Shakespeare? That dude’s grasp on the English language was, like… twelveuous.
I overheard my daughter asking the little boy next door, “Are you the opposite sex, or am I.”
*pretends to throw ball*
*dog runs to chase it*
Ha, stupid dog.
*dog keeps running, disappears over horizon*
Um
*dog tackles me from behind*
“There will be snacks.” – someone successfully convincing me to do anything
Me: …so long story short, what I’m saying is, it either has to be a talking goat, OR a monkey who doesn’t talk, but understands my every word.
Genie: That’s it, no more wishes for you
[having a pizza party with 5 teddy bears]
More pizza, guys? Or are you… STUFFED? HAHAHA *eats all the pizza before they can answer*
I dinated blood today. I have typo blood.
Buying a scrub brush on a stick for your back because you need something to remind you that you are single, even in the shower.
Cryptocurrency sounds like an entrance fee to a mausoleum.