Pepperidge Farm Remembers What You Did Last Summer
Pepperidge Farm Remembers What You Did Last Summer
I want to get hospitalized for exhaustion like a celebrity.
βIβm down for whatever,β I say, falling asleep.
I donβt have any answers, but I do have a few good questions.
Itβs gonna take a lot more than that to change my mind. Maybe do a magic trick or something
Some things we simply cannot know on this plane: is there a god? What is our purpose? Where did all my iTunes music go? The lyrics to Rocket Man etcβ¦
Doggy style so I can sign my divorce papers
After a certain age men in light colored jeans look ridiculous
Turned over a new leaf and found an angry scorpion
When Iβm buying Twinkies and Yodels it feels like Iβm 16 again buying a dirty magazine
Me, as a therapist: Please, you think that's bad? I've been searching for my lost shaker of salt all this time.
Looking for someone who shares my love of stuffing.
her: have you been moisturizing?
me: oh no...that's just pizza grease.
Might sell Avon door to door as a side hustle
My Uncle Jeb is so stupid. He fell out of a tree while raking leaves.
Do we have independent confirmation that Chumbawamba really drank a whiskey drink, a vodka drink, a lager drink, and a cider drink? Thatβs a lot for most people.
Me: I have a very livid memory
Her: Donβt you mean vivid?
Me: Noβ¦
MY EDITOR: I think you need to make the main character more human. He's just completely unlikeable.
ME: *taking back my autobiography* Um...
I remember one time my wife got mad at me for accidentally stepping on a spider so I said 'calm down PETA Parker' lol, and you guys, that did not help. At all.
Sometimes I'll sit and contemplate the meaning of life and other times I'll wonder if the plural of manatee is 'manatees' or 'menatee'
A roll-on anti-aging serum, call it Deolderant
I'm not one to brag, but I totally got out of bed today without coaxing.
This is my crippling anxiety post. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
One of the skills I put on my resume was the ability to keenly observe other people working.
If you run past your neighbors scratching your crotch and screaming they tend to not ask questions.
I have a junk food problem. I don't have any . . .
My type: someone supportive and warm who I can curl up and relax with. Wait, that's my bed.
My life would be so much easier if I had a few minions.
It turns out that anybody can be a greeter at Walmart. You don't even have to work there.
genesis was just godβs first mcrib marketing test