A lot of birthdays in November. It’s as if there’s some kind of romantic peak in or around mid-February.
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My nudes are like fruitcake. Nobody likes them but I send them anyway.
I bet the worst part abt being an organ harvester for the black market is having to fill the motel bathtub using that little bucket for ice.
Me: How much for the doggy in the window
Store Employee: That’s Karen. She works here
*looks gift horse in the mouth
Gift Horse: Hey, my eyes are up here.
You know you have a good therapist when he takes his shoes off, curls up in the chair with snacks and says, “next session is free, this story is too good.”
If I’m on a date and can’t think of anything to say I just make it look like I’m busy trying to figure out what a smell on my fingers is
Hobbies are so different in San Francisco. Everyone is like, “I went for a hike” or “We took a drive along the coast.” In New York it was like, “I looked outside for awhile and decided it wasn’t worth it.”
Before cellphones, my mom would open the window and scream my name until I came back home.
A smile in Canada is called a smilometre.
Imagine if your anxiety and your metabolism swapped jobs