some time in the mid-90s I fell out of my bunk bed and hit my head. My parents took me to the ER, and the doctors asked me various questions to determine my mental status. One of them was “Who’s in charge at the White House?” I deadpanned “Hillary” and had the whole ER laughing. I was seven or eight.

I mean this is jezebel its like 4chan for women

I have a child. I’m still 100% committed to my dogs. If they needed to be destroyed because they were psychologically damaged, I would not drop them off at a shelter. I would have the maturity and courage to hold them while they were put to sleep.

This was my favorite of the joke submissions that I saw:

I’m terrified of dying, but not of death. I assume I just sort of lose consciousness if there is no “God force.” I don’t believe in any Christian God or any other specific one.

Neither, apparently.

And if I’m not ungreyed after I photoshopped an ibex for you people I just give the fuck up.

Everyone has inexplicble things they believe that somehow give them peace and hope. Some people believe in god, some people believe Apple has their best interests at heart, other people think the Cardinals play baseball the way it’s meant to be played.

This isn’t about you.

oh fuck off.

You know Ferrell and Wiig are enjoying the shit out of this though!

Oh man, I had a french skincare salesman at the mall tell me all about my giant pores. Like, fuck you, frenchie, no one asked you.