I’m on a seafood diet – I see food and I eat it.
My bed and I are in a committed relationship, but my alarm clock keeps coming between us.
I speak fluent movie quotes.
Exercise? I thought you said extra fries.
I put the “pro” in procrastinate.
Life status: currently held together with duct tape.
I’m not lazy, I’m conserving energy.
My wallet is like an onion—opening it makes me cry.
I followed my heart and it led me straight to the fridge.
I whisper “Seriously?” to myself at least 20 times a day.
I’m multitasking: I can listen, ignore, and forget at the same time.
If we’re not meant to eat midnight snacks, why is there a light in the fridge?
I dance like nobody’s watching, because they’re all checking their phones.
Namast’ay in bed all day.
My brain has too many tabs open.
I’m not weird, I’m a limited edition.
I’m on a mission to kill my hunger.
I told my computer I needed a break, and now it won’t stop sending me Kit Kat ads.
Change is inevitable—except from a vending machine.
I warm up before running out of money.
