My reciprocating saw hasn't done shit for me lately.

I didn’t lose control; I just misplaced it.

My flirting style? Think “rom-com lead,” but it’s the blooper reel.

My coffee is strong, but my will to do stuff is not.

Yes I'm still watching, Netflix, and it's not like you don't have things to be ashamed of.

“Children are the world's most valuable resource and its best hope for the future.” - John F. Kennedy

Apparently, the going price for a devil's haircut is two turntables and a microphone.

I'm watching the guy across the road using a leaf blower to blow his leaves into his neighbour's yard and friends, never stop learning

I feel your pain no that's mine.

Kids these days will never understand the chokehold Bryan Adams had on us in the 90s

The great thing about alt text is that it's another place to add an additional shitpost.

I’m not a morning person, or an afternoon person. Honestly, I’m barely a person.

Why do elevators always smell like someone’s bad life choices?

If Friday had a “fast forward” button, I’d put my finger straight through this iPhone pushing it.

Just burned 1200 calories… forgot my pizza in the oven.

My reality check bounced again.

I don’t hold grudges. I catalog them with footnotes.

Pumpkin spice is invading Labor Day like an unwanted guest with cinnamon.

I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right.

I love a thrill... like when you hold down backspace and it starts erasing like 10x faster fuck

Labor Day weekend: That magical time when Instagram makes it look like the whole country owns a lake house and no one ever burns their burgers.

Some people run marathons. I just ran out of patience watching my microwave count down from 30 seconds.

Got stuck waiting for one train… thought it was over… surprise second train. At this point just build me a mailbox, I live here now.

Sunday, 6 PM is when the weekend’s warranty officially expires.

I licked frosting from the beater so aggressively that my dentist sent me a LinkedIn request.

Cicadas out here sounding like a million tiny vuvuzelas at a World Cup final.

Adulthood is basically just walking around the house muttering, “Where the hell is that noise coming from?”

Every paranormal video: 1% ghost footage 99% dude whispering “did you hear that?” to another dude who definitely didn’t

I’m like the Pete Davidson of Friday nights because somehow I’m here, and no one understands why.

“Delete. Delete. Delete.” — my motto, my method, my memoir.

Sure, reboot Superman again. But this time, he’s got IBS, a Prius, and a podcast.

Text “STOP” to activate Hammer Time.

It’s the last day of a 4-day weekend and I’m spending it the same way I started it: in denial and sweatpants.

The 3rd of July is basically just the dress rehearsal for my neighbor’s illegal fireworks show.

I removed two flies from the house without harming them. Will my Nobel Peace Prize be delivered, or do I have to pick it up somewhere?

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down—mostly because I keep forgetting my umbrella and will to live.

The weekend ended so fast I didn’t even get to pretend I was going to be productive.

Sunscreen instructions: ‘Reapply every 80 minutes.’ Me: (remembers at hour 6, already medium-well)

When she asks, ‘What's that smell?’ ‘Your bootyhole’ is not a good answer. I know this now.

Fighting the urge to turn on my windshield wipers in the car wash.

Allergy meds are like: ‘Congrats, you can smell flowers again—but you’ll be smelling them in your dreams, because you’re unconscious for 14 hours!’

It's only Wednesday? It feels like it should be next Friday.

Hot singles in your area want access to your swimming pool

It’s so hot, even my thoughts are sticking to each other.

Monday is proof that time isn’t real and we’re just trapped in a simulation run by someone who hates us.

Jaws forever harmed the image of a truly noble creature. Yet ever since I saw it, I’ve been terrified of getting into a boat with Richard Dreyfuss.

Stepped outside for a minute. Won’t make that mistake again.

It’s Friday and I’m a party animal because I said ‘yes’ to the CVS receipt survey.

I opened my fridge, forgot why, and just stood there like a Sims character waiting for instructions.

The alien remains have been at Area 52 this whole time. It was just a typo.