Ohhhh man I needed this. I did laugh at the kilt story. Growing up, I was told so many times by my dad (he’s Scottish) to NEVER ask what’s under the kilt. EVER.

I want that burger so bad. PINKHAM, YOU ASS. YOU ASSBUTT.

/swoons

We told the wee monster once that children who lie too much are eaten by insects. We never said that again, or continued with it, but she gave insects a look of abject terror for about three weeks afterwards.

I didn’t have them until schnookums made them for me, shortly after we moved into our big apartment. He makes them al dente, thank the Noodly One.

I cried at my wedding, but that was because I really, really, REALLY didn’t want go through with it and was hoping someone on my family would step up and ask me last second if I was really sure. They didn't.

It looks like strawberry jam. I refuse to believe it is anything but that.

...the hell kind of pie is that?!

I wonder if she’s related to that family in one of the BCO’s that mixed ranch in their tea?

I just ate and I want one of those donuts in the mouth part of my face right now.

The world has now seen true evil.

“The customer is always right” is the worst thing to ever happen. I genuinely enjoy my job, as frustrating as it can be. I enjoy getting a person on the phone and solving the puzzle. I love it.

Good for her.

We’re nearly thirty and we still play with them. When we bother to order pizza

...

I always called those tables...still do. Shut up, can’t make me stop.

I..j...wha...glargle blorp chickenface.

I don’t understand the question, and I won’t respond to it.

I straight up tell people that I will help them on calls in return for food. Not only do I get some of every team’s potluck, but I have people randomly bringing me food. Man, I love food.

I will move mountains for the people who tell me “Hey, no worries. Take your time, do whatever you need to do. If you need me to do something on my end, just let me know”