me: this leaf blower is doing more harm than good. i want a refund
store manager: that’s a rocket launcher
me: *using chocolate coins as currency*
clerk: those are not legal tender
me: tender? buddy, these will melt in your mouth
i’m just in the middle of doing some push ups. well actually i’ve just dropped a packet of M&Ms and i’m searching for the ones that rolled under my couch but same thing right
me: we have developed a fear of boy bands
wife: at the same time
therapist: in sync?
me: what do you want from me
wife: a divorce
me: i meant for christmas
[hearing news of an apocalyptic asteroid] best put the car in the garage
my grandparents were such a vibe in the 40s
the worst part about lockdown is thinking of all those Pokémon outside just waiting to be found
me: *coughs up mucus* JESUS
wife: quit blasphlegming
boss: where have you been for the past seven days
me: in bed
boss: but i said sleep was for the weak
fish genie: wait, did i just grant you three wishes
me: *rich, handsome, and enjoying world peace* errm, no
[first day as a bartender]
boss: stop putting OJ in the mojitos
me: *starts serving mitos*
me: i’d like to buy a data storage system
assistant: hard drive
me: yes the freeway was gridlocked
me: here’s an idea. a dishwasher that ‘beeps’ when it’s finished
CEO: yeah. like, twenty times
me: lmao two or three times is more than enou-
CEO: TWENTY TIMES
CEO: T̶̨̮̲̱̎͐̾͒͑W̴̨̺̭͛͗͆̀E̸̦̾̇͗͝Ṅ̴̦̪̿̇T̸̩̫̐̾͒Y̷̨͇̯̞̌́́͌ ̵̧̜͚͛̕͘T̶̛̞͑̒͑̅Ḯ̵͚̆̕M̵̫̠͉̀Ë̸͔̝̬́̌̈͘S̶̝̘̓̽͒̒͑-
morpheus: take the blue pill AND the red pill and i’ll show you how deep the rabbit hole goes
me: they both taste exactly the same
morpheus: *waving skittles packet* RIGHT?
me: OH MY GOD
me: *gets divorced*
[24 hours earlier]
me: *purchasing a heart-shaped potato* she’ll love this
[Murderer chasing me]
Murderer: YOU’VE DROPPED YOUR WALLET
Me: oh, I thought you wanted to kill me
Murderer: *ruffles my hair* I’m a murderer, not a thief! *starts stabbing me*
ME: Doctor, doctor. I think I’m a pair of curtains.
DOC: Pull yourself together!
DOC: But seriously, I’m gonna refer you to a therapist cos that shit ain’t right.
ME: What’s that on your wrist?
CO-WORKER: It’s a step tracker. It tells me how many steps I’ve taken throughout the day.
ME: Great! Do you like mine? *holds out arm*
CW: That’s just a regular watch.
ME: I know…it tells me how many hours I’ve got left until bedtime.
ME: [plucking chicken] Who lets their eyebrows get this bad?