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I hate poorly constructed analogies. They make my brain hurt. Like a bear eating an apple. Except you can't put it in your mouth. Sweden.
Toddler just sprang from behind, grabbed me, & squealed HI! Fortunately my SEAL training kicked in & I neutralized her w/jab to the windpipe
I like my coffee like my women: hot, quiet, and barefoot & pregnant in my kitchen. Also, I don't think I understand this joke format.
This is a really white neighborhood, you guys. The Starbucks has a Trader Joe's inside of it.
Smartphone died unexpectedly during lunch. Became immediately dumbstruck on how to act in public anymore.
Still feel slightly traumatized.
Whiskey for dinner? Again? I really need to have words with the chef of this place.
I think Twitter crushes are just God's way of reminding us life is fleeting. And that you're incapable of sound judgement ~86% of the time.
Just looked in the mirror, adjusted my bedhead, and put on pants. Because god forbid I want the pizza man judging me.
Today at 9:43AM, Cindy Crawford's mole became sentient, leapt from her face, and announced its impending candidacy for Republican office.
You guys, I just ate two really girly looking red velvet cupcakes, and I think I've suddenly begun lactating.
Apparently a rousing fingerbang isn't even worthy of a return phonecall nowadays. Officially retiring attempts to figure the female species.
So did anyone else miss the fireworks due to blacking out on the couch because they're unloved & have no real family?
Oh yeah, me neither.
No love. No credibility. No booze. No girlfriend. No job. No friends. No sex. This Thanksgiving I'm gonna be a goddamned joy to be around.
Sweetheart, I don't think that's your slip that's showing. I'm fairly sure that's your labia.
LOST: One unit of measurement. Goes by the name 'Friday.' If you've seen it, or happen to know where-in-hell I was during, please reply.
I write words on paper. Inexplicably, people pay me money for this.
