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Okay, so you Republicans taking office, we all expect a complete economic turnaround in less than two years. Got it?
You can eat off the floor in my house. Because there's actual bits of food there.
Why are all the homeless guys in my town talking in deeper voices?
Phone call with my mom in the hospital: "Somebody stuck their finger up my ass; I don't know who." Me: "I've been to parties like that."
Ten years ago Dan and I had sex. This morning, the product of that union just did the 'pump-action shotgun' sound followed by a fart sound.
"I am neither rising nor shining until Friday." He's SEVEN.
Tumblr outage, Day Two: warming hands clad in fingerless gloves over oil can fire, aka checking Facebook.
Facebook: the place to put your jokes so that they may be taken literally.
Nice beaver. I'd trap that.
Our coffee maker died this morning. Visitation will be from 4 to 6 p.m. today with a funeral mass right after I murder everyone in sight.
Before loudly announcing that you "like it in the can" on a crowded train, be sure your fellow passengers are aware you mean Diet Coke.
I dropped 7 eggs on the kitchen floor moments after the 5 y.o. dropped a gallon of milk. We just added flour and sugar and called it a day.
I'm so easy, even a caveman would do me.
Things I never thought I'd say before bath time: "You're not putting those fake vampire teeth on your penis, are you?"
My people eat every part of the doughnut, including the powdered sugar that falls on our boob shelves.
Do we all regret having several albums' worth of shitty quality Instagram snaps yet?
That's the last time I'll tell somebody to rock out with his cock out.
After I explained what a BM is, the 10 y.o. immediately turned to his 6 y.o. brother and said, "You piece of BM."
I may have let the 5-year-old think we were shopping for "chicken breath" at the grocery store. Some mistakes are too awesome to correct.
You know what keeps me youthful? This adult-onset acne.