Pellets from the Universe

Me: You smell like a cigarette.

Husband: I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life.

Me: Well you better start now before you die and don’t have the chance.

Me: One time my cousin’s stupid friend told me that the only way you could die from a weed overdose is if you smoked a telephone pole’s worth of weed in a joint and inhaled it all at once.

So stupid.

Only a giant can do that.

How would researchers even figured that out??

BFF: RIP the scientist who took that one for the team.

BFF: I love this singer. She’s also a ventriloquist.

Me: I wonder if you go on a date with her, if you have to date her puppets too. I wonder if you pick one or you can pick several.

BFF: What if you don’t get to pick at all? What if they pick you?

The wand chooses the wizard…

Me: Last night my husband fell asleep and the pillow smushed his face a little and I saw what our baby would look like and I thought it was cute for like 0.5 seconds.

If I had a baby I’d constantly be texting you like, “How do I know if my baby is breathing normally??” Then 3 seconds later I’d text you like, “Oh nevermind. He’s breathing.”

I’d say like, “What is diaper cream for?”

And, “How do you put a diaper on a baby?”

Maybe you could draw a venn diagram.

Me: When I think of “our song” it’s “One Sweet Day” by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men.

“One Sweet Day” reminds me of you.

The song about the dead guy.

BFF: I’m self-conscious about singing. I’m hoping that the more I practice, I’ll desensitize and be able to sing in front of people.

Me: I feel that way too about dancing! We’ll expose each other.

To each other.

We’ll expose ourselves to each other.

Nope.

No matter what it sounds bad.

BFF: I think I don’t like partner dances.

Me: Why?

BFF: Because I ONLY want to be the boy.

Me: OMG I ONLY WANT TO BE THE GIRL!

BFF: You complete me!

Me: Let’s dance together!

BFF: Ok!

Me: You can lead and slap my ass.

The only dance move I know is pouring champagne on someone’s clothed body.

Today I went to the doctor and she said I was long over due for a wellness exam by about 5 years.

She said, “Get your tits looked at. Make sure your milkers are in working order.”

Not really. She didn’t say that. But man, can you imagine?

I’ve been dancing for like, an hour, and I think I ran out of moves after about 30 seconds?