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I'm a triple threat: great at singing and horrible at counting.
I just went on a date with an optometrist. She's gonna see another guy later and tell us which is better: 1 or 2.
Live your life like you will have something to say when a sadistic monster asks everyone in the meeting to share something interesting about themselves.
I don't believe in sex after marriage.
I'm a recovering workaholic. I haven't had a job for six years.
Doctors are currently fighting a civil war over the correct interpretation of the hippocratic oath.
Early paternity tests were only 50% effective: they told you that the child has a father, but they couldn't tell you who it was.
Counterpoint: Yes worries.
A shy pastor is one who waits for the choir boy to make the first move.
Perhaps our scientists should get to work finding a way to harvest hindsight so that they don't regret it later when they find out that's what they should have been doing all along.
If you're having trouble writing a book, try writing two books. You will end up writing a book in the process.
Why don't aliens wear clothes? Because it's always dark in space.
I think “renting your body” is a better description for prostitution than “selling your body.” Imagine someone says they're “selling their house” but you find out that they're just letting people have sex with the house for $200 an hour.
I had to split with my boyfriend last week. He was taking too many risks on his Yamaha. The last straw was playing Mozart's “Requiem” blindfolded.
I always put my coffee grounds in the compost pile. I like the idea of keeping those damn raccoons up all day.
I weighed myself this morning and the scale said “used car salesman,” so I suppose it's time for me to lose a few morals.
5 Easy Steps to Manage a Panic Attack from Someone Currently Having One
Step 1: AHHHHHHHHHH
Step 2: AHHHHHHHHHH
Step 3: AHHHHHHHHHH
Step 4: AHHHHHHHHHH
Step 5: The 4-7-8 Breathing Method
“Would you quit your honking. I’m going as fast as I can!” But the duck wasn’t finished telling his story.
Love is something you’re in, like tall boxes you can’t jump high enough to see over the edge of, or escape from, or scream loud enough for someone to hear you and cut a hole in to rescue you.
Hypochondria is best cured by letting people who think they're doctors treat people who think they're sick.