PAC-MAN: *eating his third ghost* You know, these just aren’t filling.
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In medieval times, infant mortality was so high that parents would often avoid posting pregnancy pics on Facebook until the 3rd trimester.
Me: *whispering* if you hold very still, she won’t see us…
Him: our daughter is not a T-rex.
6yo has two pregnant Barbies and one Ken doll. You could cut the tension in the Barbie camper with a tiny stiletto.
If only we’d had some kind of warning that a pandemic would pandemic.
*walks up to Harvard with an avocado* one law degree please
Doctor: I told you to gargle with salt water.
Me *slurping ramen noodles*: ᵍᵃʳᵍˡᵉᵍᵃʳᵍˡᵉ
my biggest wish is that someday a bunch of people will say wow money really changed her
I’ve decided that my go to from now on will be
“Sorry my house is a mess my husband is out of town”
They don’t need to know that it’s like this no matter what.
wordle is optional. y’all complain so much, just wanted to remind you
i am:
⚪️ a man
⚪️ a woman
🔘 at a family get togetherlooking for:
⚪️ men
⚪️ women
🔘 a way out
[Arriving to cult meeting]
Cult leader: Did you bring the sacrifice?
Me, standing in a puddle of water:
Shit…I thought you said sack of ice.
ME [proudly]: I threw a penny in and made a wish
CORONER [reopening the chest cavity]: ugh we talked about this
Therapist: Go to your happy place
Me: Ok
Therapist: Good, where are you?
Me: In a bathtub full of Sausage Egg McMuffins
Therapist: I’m sorry, what?
Me: The beach, I said the beach
her: I’m a cat person
me: I’m more of a dog pers-
her: [starts licking hind leg]
me: oooOoo k
At some point all those Legos I’ve kicked down the vent instead of picking up over the years are going to be a major problem.
I’m not a fan of camping, if I wanted to sleep outside I wouldn’t pay my mortgage.
Sure, there’s no “I” in “team”…
But there’s, like, three in “idiot.”
Hobbies include:
1. Crying about the past
2. Procrastinating in the present
3. Worrying about the future
friend: they say pennywise takes form of your greatest fear
[later]
tv: the big bang theory marathon starts now!
me: holy shit it’s him
[arrives at the gates of hell]
Satan – “WELCOME MORTAL. DOWN HERE… WE DON’T HAVE LASAGNA”
Me – “um…ok?”
[Satan checks list]
“Is your name Garfield?”
“No”
“Huh. List says Garfield”
my boss: due to coronavirus, we will be making all meetings remote
me: [sensing opportunity] what if we didn’t have them at all, to be safe
me [to snail on ceiling]: ah ure a cute lil guy how’d u get up there?
snail: I just want to die pls why do I have to be so sticky
Husband: *buys anything* Let’s save the box in case we need to return it.
[2 years and 250 boxes later]
Me: Honey, the kids are lost in your box maze again.
Her : You hang up first.
Me : *click*
If you’ve seen one Santa, you’ve seen a mall.
My pet rock, Simon, died and I was going to bury him outside but I set him down and now I’m not sure which one is Simon oh no
“He’s probably more afraid of you than you are of him,” I say, as a kodiak bear mauls my friend Jeff.
You found poison in his stomach? But he HATED poison!
Me: Ugh! I never know what to say in these situations…
Friend: You say ‘good morning’ back
I hate people who get paid to write toddler’s books.
They put together like 20 words and then find something else to draw the pictures.