Spoiler alert. The supermoon has no cape.

Fine. Ignore the fact that I vacuumed up a spider all by myself and focus on the fact that I won't let the vacuum cleaner back in the house.

Sometimes I say sorry because I'm really not sorry on the inside.

“This is the worst Pop-Tart I’ve ever had.”

“You’re eating toast and jam.”

“I SAID, WORST POP-TART EVER.”

I thought the static electricity in the blankets was fun until I woke up covered in balloons from a car dealership over 30 miles away.

I put the wreck in recluse, rectangle, recreation, and female.

I'd like to free my mind but it ends up peeing on the carpet every time.

I use the word literally too much so I've set my auto-correct to change it to awesomely. I just awesomely tripped on nothing and fell down.

I'm torn between scrubbing the mold out of my shower and calling it a victory garden.

I tried combining a bottom lip quiver with sad eyes to get my way. "Nope, too far. Now you just look like Beaker from the Muppets."

I destroyed a document by removing a staple that turned out to be a xerox copy of a staple. I blame the copier for being too realistic.

An inopportune breeze caused me to flash MY FATHER. I'll just be over here floating in this vat of sexual paralysis for the rest of my life.

If management is going to use stock photos of happy workers in company emails, it's my duty to make "Have you seen me?" posters out of them.

Bras. Brahs. Both support boobs.

I spent the whole day trying to match a mystery bruise on my leg to a piece of furniture in the house or office that is the same height.

I bet the genius who put several sticker labels on this clear view binder is the kind of person who poops a little when they sneeze.

Anyone who thinks I'm missing out by not having kids hasn't seen Mr. Zoom in his undies with a blanket chip clipped to himself as a cape.

I've learned that my husband takes an intense interest in things I laugh at, but won't explain. I think my vagina is about to get HILARIOUS.

Dear toenail clippings, please don't hurt anyone on your way back into the atmosphere.

You take the S out of Sharpie.