This sounds more like an accusation than a question.

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The only time that my wife screams my name in bed is when I break wind in my sleep.


I broke into your house and slept under your bed all night to protect you from the perverts out there.


I’ll complain about the government invading my privacy after I tell you where I am on Facebook and posting what I’m eating on Instagram.


“Honey, I’m pregnant”
“Are you kidding me?”
“That’s another way of saying it, I guess, yeah”


Stalker status update: Good news-I’m not in your house.
The bad news-I am UNDER your house and the tunnel is complete.


“Dad, what’s a coworker?”

“Someone you block on social media.”


“Always bring a nail file, scissors, tweezers, a corkscrew, a toothpick and a bottle opener to a knife fight.” — The Swiss Army


I’m fresh out of hopes and dreams. Can I interest you in despair and disappointments?