One Joke

My to-do list has become less a plan, more a historical archive of good intentions.

I spent the afternoon scrolling through my previous scroll sessions, trying to locate the scrollbar for today's. It was getting quite long.

Some light switches are merely suggestions, interpreted uniquely by each resident after dark.

The travel brochure suggested transcendence. I mostly achieved a thorough inspection of the shower's water pressure.

Observing a small human’s determined struggle with a single zipper is a particular kind of performance art.

The inbox: a hydra. Two replies in, three new heads emerge.

My internal committees are quite efficient, which is why external progress remains theoretical.

I considered installing a camera in my refrigerator to ensure no snack went unrecorded.

My grand plan for today involves successfully remembering what I walked into this room for.

I told my suitcase there'd be no trip this year. Now I'm dealing with emotional baggage.

What do you call a pile of cats? A meow-ntain.

I'm great at multitasking: I can waste time, be unproductive, and procrastinate all at once.

Why did the tomato turn red? It saw the salad dressing.

I wanted to be a doctor, but I didn't have the patience.

What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.

I only know 25 letters of the alphabet. I don't know y.

Why did the maths book look so sad? It had too many problems.

A friend said I was immature. I told him to get out of my fort.

What do you call a sleeping dinosaur? A dino-snore.

I tried to write a joke about a roof, but it went over everyone's head.