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Going to the grocery store is like entering a high-stakes game of cart Tetris. I start with a perfectly organized cart, but by the time I'm in the checkout line, it looks like I let a toddler loose in the toy aisle. Exaggeration? Nah, just grocery shopping reality!
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Why is it that when you drop a small item, it becomes invisible to the human eye? I drop a pill, and it's like, "Well, I guess that's gone forever." It's not on the floor; it's not in my hand. Did it join a secret society of vanished items?
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Dating apps make it seem like finding a soulmate is as easy as ordering pizza. Swipe right for love, they say. But in reality, it's more like playing a game of "Where's Waldo?" with a thousand Waldos, and they all have pictures with tigers.
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Trying to find matching socks is like searching for the Holy Grail in my laundry basket. I start with hope, but by the end, I'm convinced that the sock-eating monster living in my dryer has a sock black market somewhere in the laundry underworld.
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You ever notice how the "snooze" button on our alarm clocks is like a gateway to a parallel universe where time slows down? I hit snooze for just 5 minutes, but in snooze-world, I end up having enough time to learn a new language, write a novel, and solve world hunger!
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Why is it that the size of the popcorn at the movie theater is directly proportional to the size of my hands? I swear, I asked for a small popcorn, and they handed me a bucket that could double as a temporary home for a small family of squirrels.
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Have you ever tried assembling furniture from that big blue Swedish store? They should include a medal in the box for completing the task without losing your sanity. I'm pretty sure the instructions were written by someone who speaks a secret language called "Pictionary with a twist.
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The amount of hair in the shower drain after I wash my hair could make a wig for a Chia Pet. I'm convinced my shower drain is plotting its escape, building a hairy army to one day overthrow the bathroom and claim it as their hairy kingdom.
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Let's talk about "one-size-fits-all" clothing. I tried on a shirt that claimed to fit everyone, and it looked like I was wearing a circus tent. Apparently, "all" includes people with a wingspan of an albatross.
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The speed of Wi-Fi at home is directly proportional to how urgent the work deadline is. When I have all the time in the world, the internet moves at the speed of a sloth on a Sunday stroll. But when I'm on a tight deadline, suddenly it's racing like Usain Bolt with a jetpack.
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