*Showing me a picture of your baby*
Me: Is that a dog toy in the background? What kind of dog do you have? What’s your dog’s name?
Despite evidence to the contrary, I still maintain typing louder and harder will magically make my incorrect password correct.
I would like to think money won’t change me, but I won $5 on a scratch-off lottery ticket and immediately bought name brand aluminum foil.
Whenever someone says, “Good question” I never hear their answer because I’m too busy congratulating myself for asking such a good question.
I’ve never wanted to know the answer to anything bad enough to ask a question at the end of a meeting that’s running 30 minutes over time.
Home is where the bag filled with plastic bags filled with plastic bags filled with plastic bags is.
I’ve deleted enough tweets to know that I should never get a tattoo.
If you bump into someone at the grocery store and say goodbye, there’s a 99 percent chance you’ll see them in every single aisle after that.
1. Rage against the machine.
2. Check to make sure machine is plugged in.
3. Apologize to the toaster for the misunderstanding.
I try to find the good in every situation. Wait. That was a typo. I meant “food.” I try to find the food in every situation.
I think I just invented four new yoga poses trying to get a chocolate chip that I dropped under the table.
I feel like whoever named it a “magic marker” was really overselling their product expectation-wise.
A group of crows is called a murder. A group of people walking slowly in front of me at the store is called a motive.
This invitation says, “Regrets only,” so I’m sending them a note that says, “My hair throughout most of the ‘90s.”
The good news is it wasn’t a bug. The bad news is I beat the crap out of a black bean on the floor with my shoe.