the worst pressure is when you’re replying to a text with a word you can’t spell and you know they’re going to wonder why it took you 5 minutes to type “I’ll bring hors d’oeuvres”

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*crawls back up a waterslide for 2 hours* did you say “go dudette” or “no not yet”


You know you’re drunk when you sit down on the toilet & try to put your seatbelt on


Please stop telling me how long your baby is in inches. I need something more visually relatable. Oh, your baby was 3.5 hot dogs long? Cool.


The way to a man’s heart is thru his stomach. At least that’s what the crazy woman with the butcher knife kept saying at the murder scene.


Some people say I hang out with the wrong crowd. They’re always like “Hey man we’re over here you don’t even know those people.”


I hate when my therapist “makes a note” because I know that means she’s gonna try and circle back … but she wildly underestimates my filibuster skills.


If this whole twitter thing doesn’t work out, we can all get jobs writing for a company that makes mildly disturbing fortune cookies.


Me: “Hey doc, what’s that condition where you wake up and everything hurts?”

Doctor: “40”


Waitress: need anything else?
Me: yes, a cup of black coffee.
W: and how would u like your coffee?
M: uhhh..black and in a cup?