bestTrending Topics
Joke Types
0
0
You know, folks, my wife dropped a bomb on me the other day. She said, "I'm leaving you." Now, I'm not the kind of guy who panics easily, but I did what any rational person would do. I immediately started packing her bags. I mean, if you're gonna leave, at least let me help you get a head start, right? I'm treating it like a game show now. We've got the clock ticking down, the suitcase on one side, and my wife on the other, frantically throwing clothes into the bag. I even threw in a dramatic host voice: "Will she make it before the buzzer? Tune in next time on 'Marriage Escape'!"
Seems like she's taking her time though. Maybe she's having second thoughts. Or maybe she just realized she can't find the remote control for the TV in the new place. Either way, I'm here for the suspense.
0
0
So, my wife hits me with the classic line, "I'm leaving you." Now, I'm a bit of an optimist, so I'm thinking, "Great! New beginnings!" But then reality sets in, and I realize there's one crucial question I forgot to ask in the midst of the emotional turmoil – who gets custody of the TV remote? I mean, we've invested years in building a shared Netflix queue. Are we just supposed to split it down the middle? "You take 'Stranger Things,' and I'll take 'Queer Eye.' And don't even get me started on the password for the streaming services. It's like a digital divorce settlement.
Maybe we should have a mediator for these situations. "In the matter of the remote control, we hereby grant custody to the person who can name at least three streaming services exclusive to them." I can already see the judge with a gavel in one hand and a popcorn bucket in the other.
0
0
So, she drops this bomb on me, right? "I'm leaving you." And I'm thinking, "Well, if you're leaving, at least let me help you find your way out." I've got Google Maps open, searching for the best route to singlehood. I've even thought about getting her a GPS navigator for the journey. Picture this: "In 500 feet, turn left to start a new life. If you miss the exit, it's okay; there's always therapy ahead. Recalculating route... recalculating... recalculating. Make a U-turn when possible to save the marriage. Nah, just kidding, keep going. You're doing great!"
Who said divorces can't have a bit of guidance? Maybe they should come with a 'Dissolution Assistant.' "Turn right for alimony, left for joint custody, and continue straight for emotional baggage." You'll never get lost in the sea of post-marital bliss.
0
0
So, my wife drops this bombshell on me, "I'm leaving." Now, I don't know about you, but I never realized how many things one person can accumulate in a house until they decide to pack up and leave. It's like a never-ending magic trick. "And for my next illusion, I will make all my belongings disappear... into this suitcase." I swear, she's like Mary Poppins with that bag – pulling out memories, dreams, and a surprisingly large collection of mismatched socks. At this point, I'm expecting her to reach in and pull out a floor lamp or maybe the family dog.
And then there's the strategic packing. "Oh, honey, you're leaving? Let me just strategically place this picture of us looking happy right on top of the suitcase. That'll teach it a lesson." I'm half expecting her to hire a moving crew and have a farewell parade. It's a packing extravaganza, ladies and gentlemen!
Post a Comment