-trying to put on my distressed denim jeans
Writing a letter to Santa now because I don’t wanna seem like one of those friends that only reaches out when I want something
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M: Twitter has helped me tremendously as a writer, as it demands tightness and brevity.
Friend: What do you write?
M: Oh, only tweets now.
*doesn’t turn down whale sounds relaxation cd while being pulled over*
This is the last week you can threaten to cancel Christmas if your kids don’t do what you say; use it wisely.
I think my life would have turned out differently had I forwarded those chain letters in the 80’s.
[standing in driveway with wife]
I thought we agreed on a Prius
[giant eagle pecks at saddle]
NO THIS IS BETTER
girlfriend: at my house we call pop soda
me: weird but ok
her dad: *opens door* hello
me: hello soda
Pug: did you play favorites when you named our breeds?
God: I don’t play favorites.
Pug: what about Golden Retriever and Great Dane?
God: those are just names.
Pug: yeah I guess.
God: I promise everyone got the name they deserved.
Shih Tzu: [to Pug] did you ask him yet?
[hotel fire alarm]
M: *in pjs* How did people get dressed and outside so quickly?
H: It’s 10am, they were already dressed.
prisoner: [wakes up half drunk] where am i
sheriff: bad news pal you’re in jail
prisoner: i can see that but where
prisoner: ok now that is bad news