Q: Why did the chicken go to jail?
A: Because he was using fowl language
When I was little, I would go on Nickelodeon.com all the time and they had this game similar to Club Penguin, except it was called Nicktropolis. And if you forgot your password, a security question you could choose was “What is your eye color?” and if you got it right it’d tell you your password.
So I would go to popular locations in Nicktropolis and write down random usernames who were also in those areas, and then I would log out and type in the username as if it were my own and see which of these usernames had a security question set to “What is your eye color?” (Which was most of them, since it was easy and we were all kids).
I would then try either brown, blue, or green, and always get in, then I would go to their house and send all of their furniture and decorations to my own accounts. And if I didn’t want it, I could sell it for money.
I stayed up all night and tried to figure out where the sun was.
Then it dawned on me.
How did the dad prank his daughter using fake dog poop on April Fools Day?
He told her to look out for her new sham-poo in the shower.
What does a writer have in common with a football player?
Anxiety over a rough draft.
Why are elevator jokes so classic and good?
They work on many levels.
If the early bird gets the worm,
I’ll sleep in until there’s pancakes.
What do you call a musician with problems?
A trebled man.
What part of the museum makes everyone sneeze?
So a couple years I moved out of state with a boyfriend. Was super excited about it but with reason had anxiety about being so far from friends and family. One of the ways my anxiety was coming out was with nightmares and night terrors. I’d wake up violently sitting up in a cold sweat, gasping and whatnot. On one particular night I had woken up the sound of our doorbell ringing. Which at 4 in the morning is fucking nerve wracking. So I shook my boyfriend fully awake and told him I heard the doorbell and to go check it because I was scared. He quickly jumps up. Puts on clothes and grabs a bat. Goes all the way to the front door and opens it. I, scared shitless, am peeking around the corner watching it all go down. I see him step outside and I nervously await the verdict of the situation when I hear him call out to me. “Babe?” And I respond real shaky, “Yes?” He stands in the doorway with a real frustrated tired look in his eyes and says, “We don’t have a fucking doorbell.”