I have a crush on my chiropractor which makes perfect sense since I tend to fall for men who hurt me and then take my money.
Of course I will guard your Easter basket from any pillaging by your sisters. Bring it here, honey.
The Geek Squad needs a service where a plain-clothed tech will go fix my mom’s computer and claim to be a friend of mine so she doesn’t know I paid someone so I wouldn’t have to do it.
Marriage: an institution where having to slightly adjust your mirrors every time you get in your car puts you in a homicidal rage.
Me: I got a new car!
Him: What kind of mileage does it get? What’s the horsepower? How long is the powertrain warranty?
Me: It’s red.
I’m 53 years old unless I’m driving at night in the rain. Then I’m 107.
Clerk: What do you do at work?
Me: Write stupid jokes on Twitter.
Clerk: You can get paid for that?
Me: Hell no. That’s why I do it at work.
Every single employee in this hotel has said good morning to me. I’m never staying here again.
Me: 3 miles today.
Him: On the treadmill?
Me: No, scrolling on Twitter.
My resume is just a piece of paper that says “Please don’t Google me.”
I took a “Which Disney princess are you?” quiz and I got Jafar.
I hate how Pinterest highlights that some moms make pancakes that look like animals when I can’t even make pancakes that look like pancakes.
Done with dating sites. I’m now focusing on pizza delivery guys because at least I know they have a job, a car, and pizza.
*calls male escort service*
Whispers “How much for… you know… someone to go to Red Lobster with me.”
I just referred to tongs as ‘food tweezers’ in case you want to be in awe of my command of the English language.
The difference between your husband and your Netflix account is, over time, your Netflix account learns what you like.
Google search history:
-double chin reduction exercises
-double chin plastic surgery cost
-double fudge brownie recipe
Bohemian Rhapsody should be an official unit of measure.
“I can shower in 1 Bohemian Rhapsody.”
“Ran a 5K in under 6 Bohemian Rhapsodies.”
Me: It’s been 3 years, but I’m finally making progress on my book.
Friend: You’re writing a book?
Me: No. I meant the book I’m reading.
Me: I know exactly what’s wrong with me, Doctor.
Dr: I told you no Google. You Googled, didn’t you?
Me: NO!
Dr: <blink>
Me: One TINY Google.