...and this, ladies and gentlemen, is why unions were invented.

Oh, honey, please what is this amateur nonsense. I am the Queen of Sleep. I am a sleep pro. You get an A for effort, but your execution is all wrong.

How about if you accidentally leave yourself signed in on Facebook at your parents house and go home to find that your technophobe mother has not only been snooping but also ‘accidentally’ liked a number of your exes pictures on your feed because she thought he was ‘a good match for you’ in addition to adding the…

can their new features make him fat and bald already?! jesus.

This.

when are they gonna roll out the feature that keeps facebook from suggesting my ex-fiance’s new (like, NEW new) wife as “someone i might know”?

There were like, 4 other people in the shop! NOT ONE of them is a lover of disco, sadly.

I was counting by layers?

Is he related to Papa John? Both so punchable.

I can’t decide if “afraid of deep things” is better than allergic to either red or crunchy. I like to imagine giving them all a bowl of Crunch Berry cereal and watching the panic.

it’s going to be the gluten-free toast. honestly, i’m half tempted to call it out myself.

I actually just said this to my dad the other day. Back when everyone was upset about the Patriot Act & listening in on our phone calls my dad routinely said “if they aren’t breaking the law, why do they care?”. Well he was bitching about how people record the police and now they’re scared to do their jobs my answer…

And hell, there’s a botched butt in the AD. Look how much bigger one side is than the other!

If this whole mess doesn’t get turned into a movie starring JK Simmons, I give up on Hollywood.

In that kick-ass Dolly Parton costume.

Yeah I don’t care what this guy says; if I had a hot man I’d flaunt the everloving fuck out of him.

If “The platinum card is declined!” doesn’t become a Kitchenette meme like monogrammed thermoses, we have all failed.

I miss when the comment section was just more crazy ass restaurant stories.

I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that he sold monogrammed thermoses.

I think we’re all going to have to suggest who the New Orleans guy, in fact, was.