I'm donating all of these pubes to Locks of Love.

My job is so embarrassing I pretend to be unemployed.

It's a urinal guys, not a driving range. No need to go for distance.

I'm refilling the soap dispensers. With gravy.

I'm mopping the floor without using the WET FLOOR sign.

This is usually good for a few laughs.

OK. Who had the asparagus?

Sure, you're a big executive, but who's the CEO when you run out of toilet paper?

This is a restroom, not Starbucks. Tweet somewhere else. I've got a line out here.

This is not the place to conserve water. PLEASE FLUSH.

Damn environmentalists.

There's been a steady stream of people in here today.

I clean restrooms. My mother cleaned restrooms. Her mother cleaned restrooms. Thank you for watering and fertilizing our family tree.

Welcome to the restroom lost and found. You lose it. I find it. I keep it.

Thank you.

I purposely clogged the tampon machine. Each string is going to cost the ladies $10 a piece.

If your man aims at you like he does a urinal, there's a good chance that you'll never have children.

I know you're smoking weed in that stall. Either shit or get off the pot.

I had to place crime scene tape around stall 5.

Bruce Jenner, please return to the ladies room. I found your diamond earring.

Taking my dinner break in the handicap stall because I've got quite a spread.

I've got 99 problems and you made every one of them. FLUSH people, FLUSH.

Is that the way you treat your bathroom at home?