*watching any crime show*

He didn’t do it. There’s too much time left.

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Maybe I’ll make pancakes for breakfast.

*decides to open Twitter

Maybe I’ll make pancakes for dinner.


[I kneel down, pick up some dirt and let it run through my hand]
uh huh….
[I lick my finger and stick it in the air] hmm….
[I run my knuckles over some moss on a nearby tree]
unless i’m mistaken, it would seem that i’m outside


Insomnia: Hi
Me: Hi
I: Hope I’m disturbing you
M: You are
I: You know what we could do?
M: Let me sleep?
I: HA, no, let’s think about hippos


My husband walked out the door, smiled & said, “Have a good day!” like he doesn’t even realize he’s leaving me home with his children.


What am I supposed to do with all this laundry? And before you answer, I already tried staring out the window and crying for 9 hours.


I just watched an ad for a stain remover in which they cleaned a pool of blood off a sofa and it seemed perfectly normal.


Why is the gynecologist tool called a speculum and not a “snatchula”?


If you’re going to regret this in the morning, we can sleep until the afternoon.


Mugger: “Hand over your stuff! No funny business!”

*I give him my wallet and phone but not my business proposal to open a clown college*


I often wondered what it’d be like to be married to an idiot.
I asked my wife and she said you get used to it after a while.