Carefully choosing my grocery check out line based on the back of who’s head I want to beam hate into for the next 15 minutes.

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I’m going to subtly spread my brownie crums across your car because I silently resent you for changing the song.


I always carry a pocket knife, because I never know when I’ll need to slice open a pocket.


The irony of my developing severely crippling stomach cramps minutes after reading a cheesy old love story isn’t lost on me.


8yo, as I read her a fairy tale at bedtime: WOW your chin is hairy.
Me: …so the witch threw the overly-observant kid in the oven. The End.


WAITER: Can I take your order?

CUSTOMER: I don’t know, can you?



[they embrace, finally reunited]

DAD: But seriously, say ‘May I take your order’, you’re embarrassing yourself


Bugs Bunny is mostly ears, which makes him a great listener and an ideal boyfriend.


I’ve never once been able to explain my car trouble to a mechanic without resorting to sound effects.


“Some people call me the space cowboy”

*leans in*

“Some people call me the gangster of love”

BARISTA: I’m just gonna put Steve on the cup


A guy just walked past with fries and said “fries?” and I was like “cool thanks!” and took three and then he was like “no, I work here, did you order the fries?”. I did not order the fries.


me: I think you’ll find my resumé impressive

interviewer: this is a note threatening to…eat the moon?

me: [grabbing it] ah that’s not-*cough*-that’s for something else