You play the cards life deals you. They are Monopoly cards. You are a small pewter dog and you have won second prize in a beauty contest.

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If you rub chop sticks together its a sign of disrespect but if you use them to play a bitching drum solo much honor will come your way


God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the confidence of this woman at Starbucks who just pretended to have a dog so she could get a free cup of whipped cream.


Cop: before I search your pockets is there anything I should be aware of?

Me: we brush our teeth with hair on a stick and brush our hair with teeth on a stick

Cop: *on radio* get the feds


John won’t let me go to dinner in my towel even thought it is my favorite outfit


“Night shift again, Harry?”
“Someone has to patrol the streets.”
“Get you something to eat?”
“How’s the tuna today?”
“I’ll have a sammich then, Doreen.”
“You got it, hon. Back in a jiffy.”


Anyone that breaks up with me gets followed around by a gang of feral raccoons with tiny signs that say “Really?” and “Seriously dude?” for at least, a month.


This is the part of the job I really hate [goes to work]


I’m going to say sky diving is probably not for me since I just screamed when the toilet seat shifted.