Cosi fan tutte
Met a guy so dumb, it was like his father’s dumbest sperm fertilized his mom’s dumbest egg.
People bring the dumbest things on the bus. I just saw this guy bringing two 25-lb. dumbbells on the bus. I’ve seen a surfboard, a bike wrapped in tin foil, etc., all on the bus before, but dumbbells are a new one. And those people usually act like YOU’RE the one intruding on their space.
How do you tell a woman that you think she’s lactating? In public. On the street. If you tell her, you’re going to come off as a creep. I had this problem. This lady was definitely leaking down the front of her shirt. I didn’t know what to say. So I ran.
I am a sweat factory. My new gym nickname is Sweatshop. I should start wearing nothing but Nike and using only Apple products.
Girls don’t wear pants anymore. I don’t know when’s the last time I saw a woman wearing jeans or anything that ain’t yoga pants. I asked a friend of mine what’s the reason for this apparel epidemic, and she said, “Comfort.” Oh. That makes sense. For women. Men can’t do that. If all men dressed for comfort, we’d all we walking around with our favorite 5-year-old holy drawers. And that, ma’ams and sirs, is against the law…I think.
I’m not sure why they’re called burpees when the only bodily function they make me want to do is throw up.
“You can live without love but not without lovers.” –Despina from Mozart’s “Così fan tutte, ossia La scuola degli amanti (Thus Do They All, or The School for Lovers)”
Why are so many news stations called eyewitness news? Most of the stories are covered by reporters who get to the location after the fact. What exactly did they eyewitness? The aftermath. They should be renamed the almost-eyewitness news.
Saw an ad for “Fifth Third Bank.” What?!
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FRIEND: Prunes…Is that a bad gift?
ME: Nothing says I love you or care about your health like prunes!
ME: Yeah, no, really. That’s a terrible gift.
FRIEND: LOL
FRIEND: Really?
ME: It’s not even a gift. It’s basically a way of slapping someone in the face without touching them.
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I’m distrustful of people who always want to high five.
Too many people are running around here wearing tight clothes that fit baggy on them. If you’re so thin that your tight pants ain’t fitting tightly, then you may just need to invest in some body paint. And eat some sandwiches. And biscuits. And ham hocks. And chicken grease. And…
Speaking of pants, I saw an Echo Park hipster with a pair of jeans soooooo tight that I could guess how much change he had in his pocket because I could see the shape of the presidents’ heads.
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