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I'm a lot like Amy Winehouse. But a boy. And with less makeup. And tonedeaf. Hair's smaller. Okay, listen, I just fell off my bar stool.
I ask WebMD to diagnose the weird brown mole I just noticed.
"1. Is it delicious?"
…Yes?
"2. Were you eating Easter candy in bed?"
…Oh.
"I think I've seen this episode of The Nanny before" would make for a pretty succinct suicide note.
Just poured a generous glass of my dad's jug wine. The apple doesn't stumble and pass out in a pool of its own vomit far from the tree.
I drive like I fuck: fast, alone, and in violation of multiple state and local laws.
Ask your manager for the maximum number of Double-Down Sandwiches one customer may order. Serve me that many. Do not look me in the eyes.
'Home Is Where the Only Toilet I Feel Comfortable Using Is' just wouldn't look as good in needlepoint.
I've been invited to get 'brunch.' That's yuppie for 'hammered by noon,' right?
Instead of downloading WebMD for the iPad, I taped a piece of paper to the screen and scrawled "IT'S CANCER" on it.
Day 6 w/o Internet: Plan to hang self falls through when I can't look up where to buy rope or how to tie a noose.
Hey, I just met you
And this is brazen
But here’s a cookie
It’s oatmeal raisin
Fox News can't make fun of the Human Microphone because it's a large group of white people enthusiastically repeating everything they hear.
Well, I've still never operated an ACTUAL vagina, but surely I get some points for driving that Prius.
I salute my fellow moviegoers, who could not passively watch disaster unfold and suggested to the characters several wise courses of action.
Dropped my brother at some skank's house. Told him, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do—AND THAT PRETTY MUCH RULES OUT LADIES." I'm adorable.
Whoever built a gym right outside the window by my candy-eating chair is a fuck.
Ever see a guy and think, "Wow, I could grate cheese on those abs" then have to stop and ask if it's the abs or the cheese getting you hot?