Remember Mad-Libs™ from when you were a kid? You would fill in the blanks in a story with nonsensical results. I wanted to recreate that experience with TextExpander Fill-ins, but it’s no fun playing alone, and with our Fill-ins webinar, I decided now is the perfect time.
Fill in the blanks. Remember to please keep it clean!
Click OK to expand your silly story in the post editor.
Post your silly story!
What You Can Win
One (1) TextExpander mug!
How We Will Pick Winners
Every participant in the community can vote for their favorite entries by clicking the heart underneath the post. On June 2, 2025, we’ll award whoever earns the most hearts (TextExpander employees excluded, you have enough mugs).
Have fun with the Fill-ins and remember to keep things family-friendly!
My own example entry to kick things off. I guarantee yours will be better:
Monday started like any other: the cats were buffing, the coffee was mysteriously gone, and the office smelled faintly of egg. Classic.
At 10:03 a.m., our boss stormed out of their office, holding two cats and yelling about the dangers of excessive buffing on company time. No one had the heart to tell them they were still wearing a egg on their head.
Morale hit a new low around lunchtime when the breakroom microwave exploded—apparently someone tried heating up leftover cats wrapped in foil. The fire alarm went off, people were buffing in circles, and someone shouted, “Stay flat!”
By the end of the day, we were all tired, emotionally broken, and strangely sticky from the melted egg incident. As we packed up to go home, someone whispered, “Never trust cats again.”
We nodded, solemn and flat, already buffing in our minds.
Monday started like any other: the sparkplugs were hydrating, the coffee was mysteriously gone, and the office smelled faintly of red solo cup. Classic.
At 10:03 a.m., our boss stormed out of their office, holding two sparkplugs and yelling about the dangers of excessive hydrating on company time. No one had the heart to tell them they were still wearing a red solo cup on their head.
Morale hit a new low around lunchtime when the breakroom microwave exploded—apparently someone tried heating up leftover sparkplugs wrapped in foil. The fire alarm went off, people were hydrating in circles, and someone shouted, “Stay square!”
By the end of the day, we were all tired, emotionally broken, and strangely sticky from the melted red solo cup incident. As we packed up to go home, someone whispered, “Never trust sparkplugs again.”
We nodded, solemn and square, already hydrating in our minds.
Monday started like any other: the flamingos were moonwalking, the coffee was mysteriously gone, and the office smelled faintly of stapler. Classic.
At 10:03 a.m., our boss stormed out of their office, holding two flamingos and yelling about the dangers of excessive moonwalking on company time. No one had the heart to tell them they were still wearing a stapler on their head.
Morale hit a new low around lunchtime when the breakroom microwave exploded—apparently someone tried heating up leftover flamingos wrapped in foil. The fire alarm went off, people were moonwalking in circles, and someone shouted, “Stay moist!”
By the end of the day, we were all tired, emotionally broken, and strangely sticky from the melted stapler incident. As we packed up to go home, someone whispered, “Never trust flamingos again.”
We nodded, solemn and moist, already moonwalking in our minds.
Monday started like any other: the dogs were eating, the coffee was mysteriously gone, and the office smelled faintly of socks. Classic.
At 10:03 a.m., our boss stormed out of their office, holding two dogs and yelling about the dangers of excessive eating on company time. No one had the heart to tell them they were still wearing a socks on their head.
Morale hit a new low around lunchtime when the breakroom microwave exploded—apparently someone tried heating up leftover dogs wrapped in foil. The fire alarm went off, people were eating in circles, and someone shouted, “Stay smelly!”
By the end of the day, we were all tired, emotionally broken, and strangely sticky from the melted socks incident. As we packed up to go home, someone whispered, “Never trust dogs again.”
We nodded, solemn and smelly, already eating in our minds.
This is your space to ask questions, find support, and share ideas with fellow TextExpander users and our product team. As a first step, take a moment to introduce yourself to the community.
