“One for me, and one for the person I love most,” I say, grabbing myself two beers from the fridge.
I have three 11yr olds doing karaoke in my living room right now.
I don’t want to hear about your problems.
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2 Beers = 1 Tweet
5 Beers = 3 Tweets
9 Beers = 7 Tweets
12 Beers = 12 Tweets
24 Teers = 30 Beets
[caught getting last piece of pie out of fridge]
And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for that meddling open door beep!
Kid: MOM WHERE ARE YOU
K: UPSTAIRS OF THIS HOUSE?
M: what the? yes
K: ARE YOU UPSTAIRS
“Can’t wait to see you this summer” they said
“I’m gonna miss you so much” they said
“Stop quoting me” they said
The zombie I shot earlier may have just been a kid with chapped lips. I don’t take any chances.
Mo’ money mo’ problems might be true, but I’d still like to find out for myself.
I can still party like I’m 22.
Too bad I recover like I’m 82.
[Commercial for condoms]
*a baby cries*
Mom always said to wear clean underwear in case I got hit by a bus and I’m like “they wouldn’t be clean anyway mom!”