In the future, the sound of a heart rate monitor flatlining will be replaced with AOL’s “Goodbye” tone.
I’m writing off the stuff stolen from my car as a charitable deduction.
I’m developing a sitcom about my life. It’s called, “Friend.”
“Raise your hand if you think the ceiling fan is too low.”
I hope the oligarchs taking over this country have my best interests at heart.
I shouldn’t have tried to make an ice cream sandwich using real bread.
Happy New Year guys. We did it.
I’ve been going through people’s facebook photo albums of their trips to India in an attempt to find myself.
My life is an ongoing brain injury.
Last night I drunk dialed my mom and told her that I love her but that we can never be together.
I’m really good at predicting the present.
For Christmas, my uncle got us all gag gifts. He’s really into BDSM.
I mixed up my Christmas cards with my death threats. So look out co-workers: you’ll be getting Christmas cards.
“No more Mr. Nice Guy,” is what I’m going to yell out right before I shoot myself in the face.
Q: Are guns dangerous? NRA: Guns are totally safe in the right hands. Q: Who should have them? NRA: EVERYONE.
If you watch Toy Story in reverse you see Woody’s plan, to get Buzz put back in a box and returned, succeed.
“Rise and shine,” is the most depressing thing a shoeshiner can hear on a Saturday morning.
In Silicon Valley work is play and play is horrible, excruciatingly thought out work.