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My belly has a bucket list, and it's not the typical skydiving and traveling kind. No, it's more like "Eat all the things you promised you wouldn't." I tried to resist the temptation, but my belly is persuasive. It's like, "Come on, just one more slice of pizza won't hurt." Spoiler alert: It always hurts, especially when you're trying to button your pants afterward.
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You know, they say summer bodies are made in the winter. Well, my winter body is still waiting for an invitation to the gym. I tried to get in shape once, but my belly had other plans. It's like my stomach has a mind of its own. I do one sit-up, and it's like, "Whoa, buddy, calm down there. We're not training for a marathon; we're on a snackathlon!
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I think my belly has a hidden talent—it's a percussionist. Seriously, it's got this drum solo it performs every time I'm in a quiet room. I'm there, trying to focus on something important, and my belly is like, "Ta-dum, ta-dum, ta-dum." It's the world's weirdest and most involuntary musical performance. I just hope it doesn't audition for America's Got Talent without telling me.
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I swear my belly has a secret life. It communicates with me, especially when I'm trying to be healthy. I'll be at a salad bar, trying to make responsible choices, and my belly is like, "Hey, remember those tacos we had last Tuesday? Good times, right?" It's like having a rebellious teenager living inside you, constantly challenging your life choices.
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