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100 Hilarious Ways to Roast Your Friends: Guaranteed to Keep Them Laughing (and Slightly Offended)

100 ways to roast your friends with one-liners and comebacks

100 One-Liners to Roast Your Friends

You’re like a cloud—when you disappear, it’s a beautiful day.

I thought of you today. It reminded me to take out the trash.

You’re not stupid; you just have bad luck when thinking.

Keep rolling your eyes; maybe you’ll find a brain back there.

I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.

You’re proof that even evolution can take a few steps back.

If I wanted to hear from an idiot, I’d just talk to myself.

You’re like a software update—whenever I see you, I think, “Not now.”

I’d explain it to you, but I left my crayons at home.

You’re the reason the gene pool needs a lifeguard.

You’re as useless as the “ueue” in “queue.”

If ignorance is bliss, you must be the happiest person alive.

You’re like a candle—sometimes bright, but mostly you just burn out.

I envy everyone who hasn’t met you.

You’re the human equivalent of a participation trophy.

Your secrets are always safe with me. I never even listen when you tell them.

You’re like a gray sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake.

I’d give you a nasty look, but you’ve already got one.

You’re the reason they put instructions on shampoo bottles.

You’re like a square wheel—completely pointless.

If I had a dollar for every brain you don’t have, I’d have one dollar.

You’re the reason we can’t have nice things.

You’re as bright as a black hole, and twice as dense.

I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be idiots.

You’re like a slinky—no real purpose, but you bring some laughs when pushed down stairs.

You’re like a cloud of gnats—tiny, irritating, and hard to get rid of.

You bring everyone so much joy… when you leave the room.

You’re the type of person to trip over a wireless internet connection.

You’re proof that not everyone learns from their mistakes.

You’re like a broken pencil—completely pointless.

You’re about as sharp as a marble.

Your secrets are safe with me; I never pay attention.

You’re living proof that practice doesn’t always make perfect.

If I had a dollar for every smart thought you’ve had, I’d still be broke.

You’re like a lighthouse in the desert—bright, but completely useless.

You’re so slow, it’s like you buffer in real life.

You’re the human version of a typo.

Your Wi-Fi signal is stronger than your decision-making skills.

You’re like a cloud—fluffy, aimless, and occasionally a downer.

You’re like a traffic cone—bright and in the way.

Your brain must be a great place for an echo.

You’re like a screen door on a submarine—just not functional.

You’re about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

You’re living proof that even mistakes can be consistent.

You’re like a software bug that keeps coming back no matter the update.

You’re so clueless, you brought a spoon to a soup-less dinner.

You’re like a Wi-Fi network—everyone ignores you when you’re weak.

You’re like a wet sock—unpleasant and unnecessary.

You’re as bright as a broken lightbulb in a blackout.

You’re the kind of person who claps at the end of a movie at home.

You’re like an unfinished sentence… just disappointing.

You have something in common with a calendar—you both need dates.

You’re about as welcome as a cold shower in winter.

You’re like a bad haircut—it’ll grow out eventually.

You’re like a mute button—occasionally useful, mostly ignored.

You’re the reason alien life hasn’t contacted Earth yet.

You’re the type of person who would call tech support for a paper jam.

You’re about as trustworthy as a cat on a keyboard.

You’re like the last slice of bread—always left behind.

You have something in common with my ex—no one wants to deal with you.

You remind me of a cloud—sometimes visible, mostly in the way.

You’re like a selfie stick—no one really needs you, but here you are.

You’re the reason instructions include “don’t eat this.”

You’re like a vending machine that only takes pennies—annoying and outdated.

You’re about as reliable as a politician’s promise.

You’re the friendliest third wheel I’ve ever met.

You’re so lazy, even your excuses take a nap.

You’re the human equivalent of a Windows update—nobody wants you around.

You’re like a broken clock—only right twice a day, and even that’s debatable.

You’re like a warning sign—ignored by everyone.

You’re like a left shoe on a right foot—completely out of place.

You’re like a fortune cookie with no fortune—empty and confusing.

You’re like a car alarm—loud, annoying, and no one takes you seriously.

You’re like an ad before a YouTube video—skippable.

You’re as useful as a pencil with no lead.

You’re like a coin with no value—just taking up space.

You’re like an umbrella in a hurricane—completely useless.

You’re as awkward as a penguin in flip-flops.

You’re like the Wi-Fi at a coffee shop—free, but not worth the trouble.

You’re as relevant as MySpace in 2024.

You’re like a fish trying to climb a tree—out of your depth.

You’re like a bad idea that just won’t go away.

You’re about as organized as a squirrel on caffeine.

You’re like a phone on 1% battery—stressful and unreliable.

You’re like a flat tire—deflating and not getting anywhere.

You’re like a boomerang that doesn’t come back—useless.

You’re the human version of autocorrect—always getting it wrong.

You’re like a spilled drink—annoying and avoidable.

You’re like an unpaid intern—there, but barely.

You’re like a mosquito in a tent—unwelcome and irritating.

You’re the kind of person who brings sand to the beach.

You’re like an expired coupon—worthless.

You’re like an empty stapler—out of supply and always jamming.

You’re like a knock-off brand—cheap and unimpressive.

You’re like a weather app—wrong most of the time.

You’re like a light switch that doesn’t work—pointless.

You’re the human version of a plot hole.

You’re about as satisfying as diet ice cream.

You’re like a joke with no punchline—awkward and unfinished.

You’re like a group text—unwanted and hard to escape.