I’m disgusted by the amount of nudity on Netflix these days. There’s hardly any. What am I even paying for?

Just saying “Think about it!” is enough to overwhelm many people these days.

The first five days after the weekend are the worst.

I’m now at the age where sitting cross-legged on the floor is punishable by about three days of full-body paralysis.

The good old days, when you didn’t have to charge your watch and it didn’t constantly remind you how fat you were.

The days will soon be shorter again. Then it won’t rain for so long.

There used to be many different names for the childhood game of knocking on doors and running away. But these days, it’s simply referred to as ‘being an Amazon driver’.

Sorry, can’t. The pears I bought a couple days ago have ripened.

Back in the good old days, we didn’t have to trim our toenails, they just got wore down naturally from running from dinosaurs.

Girls these days are like a box of chocolates. Some have nuts.

Young people are too young nowadays. Back in the good old days, young people were my age.

I have consumed so much potato salad the last couple of days, I’m sweating mayo.

In six days God created heaven and earth. On the seventh day, in the interests of balance, the BBC interviewed Satan.

I did a little research on why weekends are only two days long and it turns out people made that up. WTF, people?

Some days you just feel like a hotel microwave. You’re here, but you don’t have enough power to actually do anything.

Screen time so high, I should send another risky message and then ignore my cell phone for three days.

Women know the exact weight of their children and their age in days. Men just know that little people live with them.

Going out for two days in a row should really be considered an extreme sport.

These days, I only use Facebook as a birthday calendar.

There is a house I drive by most days and I can never tell if they are having a yard sale or that is just how they live.