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So, I'm trying this new diet, you know, to get healthier. It's called the "Serial Killer Diet." No, I'm not eating serial killers; that would be illegal. But the idea is that the diet itself is so intense and stressful that you lose weight from the sheer anxiety. You spend so much time worrying about what you can eat that you forget to eat. It's the perfect plan if you want to shed pounds and possibly your sanity. I call it the Hannibal Lectern diet.
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You ever feel like doing laundry is a life-or-death situation? I mean, seriously, my laundry basket is like a crime scene. I just did a load, and I swear I killed it. You know what I mean? But here's the real mystery: Where do all those missing socks go? It's like a sock serial killer is on the loose in my washing machine. I'm just waiting for a tiny detective to show up and be like, "We've got a cold case in the spin cycle.
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Work is a battlefield, right? I walked into the office this morning, and it felt like a crime scene. Not a literal murder, of course, but someone killed the coffee machine. There's a note on it like, "Sorry, it's broken." Broken? That's not a machine malfunction; that's a caffeine massacre. I had to resort to instant coffee. It's like the decaf of the emergency world. Who even drinks that willingly? It's a sad cup of lies.
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Let's talk about alarm clocks. They are the true assassins of the morning. Mine doesn't gently wake me up; it attacks me. It doesn't have a snooze button; it has a "give up on your dreams" button. And if you try to throw it across the room, it just bounces back, laughing at your failed rebellion. I swear, someday they'll find my lifeless body, and the alarm clock will be the prime suspect. "Cause of death: early mornings and repetitive beeping.
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