Drive Thru Clerk: Wow, you smell good. What are you wearing?

Me: [hiding fries from the other drive thru] You wouldn’t know, it’s french.

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My mouth says: Yes, yes! Keep eating that candy!

My pants say: For the love of god, I cannot hold on much longer!


[Confessional Booth]
Me: I can’t do anything right.
Priest: Please get off of my lap.


My greatest hope is for my eulogy to start with “Her reign of terror is finally over.”


I used to laugh at my neighbour for getting the gender of his dog wrong for years until my cat laid an egg and now I suspect it’s a penguin.


If you can pronounce Worcestershire I’ll assume you can do all sorts of fun things with your tongue.


Last night, a cop pulled me over. “Out of the car!” he said. Then an Indian, fireman and construction worker appeared. We danced until dawn.


For main female characters, prom is inevitable. Even if you try to skip it, a perfectly-fitting dress will appear in your life.
Lock the doors, or run far away. No matter where you go, prom will find you.


You know you’re getting old when your decision to sleep with someone is mostly based on the quality of their mattress and pillows.