
i’m torn between getting my own personal jesus or getting a large jesus to share with the whole table
i’m torn between getting my own personal jesus or getting a large jesus to share with the whole table
emcee: welcome, contestants, to the world bodybuilding championships!
victor frankenstein: *looking around* i think i’ve made a horrible mistake.
the moon landing, except it’s the moon, landing on earth. everyone is just as excited. at first.
i type in all lowercase because i hate capitalism
you stereotypes are all alike
the small child points to my head and chants, i want a balloon, i want a balloon, but changes her tune when i let my head float free
i ask my toddler what’s in the box she’s holding. “chaos!” she replies. “chaos! chaos!” i know she’s trying to say “crayons,” but it’s not like she’s wrong.
him: are you going to scarborough fair?
me: yeah.
him: if you see my ex, ask her to make me a shirt and buy me some land?
me: dude, wtf?
{first date}
HIM: Your profile says you like Shakespeare. What’s your favorite?
ME [nervous]: Uh…William?
ME: Got here as fast as I could! I have the anecdote!
HIM [dying of snakebite]: Please say you mean antidote
ME: Funny story! This one time—