I like to pride myself on knowing whether it’s Ice Ice Baby or Under Pressure by the first bum bum bum badda dum bum.

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[to psychic gf] the spirits you talk to make fun of me don’t they
[she laughs for no reason]
AHHHH *punching the air* FIGHT ME SPIRITS


Me: A watched pot never boils.
Wife: …
Me: …
Wife: …
Me: …
Wife: …
Me: …
Wife: Try turning on the stove, idiot.


I’m glad my office has this giant shredder because otherwise I don’t know what I’d do with all this work.


*Santa lifts a rug while sweeping and finds a dusty, crumpled note*
“Please keep my family safe, love Bruce Wayne.”
*Santa grows very pale*


My life is a constant battle between wanting to correct grammar and wanting to have friends.


How much more of this can I take?

* piles food on buffet plate *


mom did you say we had four bouillon cubes or four billion cubes


“My favorite sex fantasy starts with you bringing me wine…”

And then?


Mmmm and then?

“You close the door from outside.”


[phone makes noise]
[gets giddy about how popular I’m about to feel]

Oh. It’s an email about car insurance.

[quietly dies a little inside]


Me: Got my finger stuck in this beer bottle.
Wife: How?!
M: Just help me.
W: Have you tried butter?
M: It’s delicious. Now will you help me?