If I ever get myself some laurels you better believe I'm resting on them, and hard. Good luck getting me up from these suckers. I've earned this!

These are gender-affirming Richard Scarry Busytown tattoos.

It really do be a marshmallow word in the winter.

Big ups to “out the corner of your eye.” One of the all-time top places to think you see a spider.

I love minding my own business. I excel at it.

Children are a different case, but surely Santa can afford adults a little pouting now and again. I think we've earned that much.

It's fun to imagine otherwise, but realistically I don't think I would get along with most apes. A chimpanzee and I would not be on good terms.

Pearls before swine: that'll do fine. Swine before pearls: not so fast, girls.

Thinking of becoming one of those benignly catty gay men who call people by the long version of their first names. Could be fun for a bit.

I recognize that I'm the annoying one when I correct someone who calls the comic strip “Charlie Brown” instead of “Peanuts.” They're in the right. Nobody cares that it's named Peanuts. It shouldn't be named that!

Memento mori? You think I'm not already up mement-ing my own mori all day and night? That I need a little oil painting of an hour glass and a skull just in case? The world is on fire. I'll mind my mori on my own time.

The beginning of a new relationship where I'm really banking on the other person not having access to any of the social media I'm freely recycling my own jokes from as though they just came to me in the moment.

Forty-one doesn't feel particularly old to me. But I have caught myself genuinely expressing aloud thoughts like “they should make driving at night easier!” So, I don't know. I could probably use some outside perspective on this.

Oh!! I...uhh, sorry! I didn't know anyone was in here.

I'm not allowed to call when the top of the can I'm drinking from smells a little weird "a life-ruining experience" anymore.

Free Use E.T.

41

My only complaint will be there's no possible way he suffered enough during it.

Champaign for my real friends. My sham friends? Well, let's just say my sham friends are going to get *quite* the surprise when they discover the nature of their reward…

Dog Eggs

There's nothing wrong with referring to masturbation as "doing your business" with the same uninspired regularity as a dog being let outside to pee. I've heard a lot of cool people do exactly this, in fact.

I'm sorry, but these can't both be called gondolas. Someone should have sorted this out by now.

Hair havers don't know the big bald secret that the crown of your head is the smoothest, most youthful looking part of you. All your body's skin hangs down from it like a towel draped over a birdcage.

Slurpee straws are a joke. I've never had that little spoon at the end help me do shit.

Red Hot Chibi Peppers

Okay, I'm officially done with being unpopular. Ready for everyone to like me in spite of my many shortcomings now.

Just circling back on that frequency, Kenneth.

I believe that after long enough out of popular use certain words should be stripped of their sexual connotations. For example: spunk. Nobody calls semen "spunk" anymore. It should have that expunged from its record and be integrated back into the lexicon.

Am I ruffling any feathers by calling New Zealand “Australia's Canada” or would everyone involved pretty much shrug and say “yeah, I guess.”

Don McLean: Drove my Chevy to the levee… Me (grinning while concealing an enormous levee-drying device): Then what happened?

Marge and Homer Symptoms

I haven't seen a lucky rabbit's foot in decades, but I remember them being a prominent part of my childhood. Has the world become less accommodating to superstitious animal mutilation, or am I just running in different circles now than when I was ten?

I cannot be the one in a relationship responsible for setting ground rules about the amount of soft crumbly chocolate that's allowed to be consumed in bed. I've proven time and again that I'm not up to the task.

I would love my nepo baby unconditionally.

My ex-partner—who throughout the span of our relationship remained convinced I wasn't actually over my ex-girlfriend—has, ironically, perpetuated this exact problem for all my future relationships (I am not over my ex-partner).

Humble Unpretentious Naturals

I'm sorry, but your doctor should already know whether or not you're the great clown Pagliacci. Fake fan.

New scam text strategy dropped: caper salad.

Baby boomers love to make you listen to a song they wrote about losing their virginity.

I pray you'll never read this.

*starts talking to you about the Pillsbury Doughboy with very strong drinking-redbull-in-a-parked-car-for-the-past-half-hour energy*

Take the Statistical "Which Character" Personality Quiz and post the first four you know: openpsychometrics.org/tests/charac... Some truly humbling realizations about myself from these results.

The size of each individual chip in a bag of "Family Size" Utz potato chips is enormous. Is this why people have families?

When I say Little Caesars crazy bread is covered in "parmesan smegma" I need you to understand that's coming from a place of love.

Stopping short at a red light and doing the protective parent arm-over-the-passenger-seat to the bag of McDonald's next to me.

Nonplussed to discover how much prog rock I’ve absorbed through my surroundings without ever making an effort to get into it.

Finding out who the real midwestern catholics are with the quality and specificity of these jokes.

I resent how much I miss going to Target.

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