Giving the guy at the park with a machete a wide berth.
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just remembering the time Arthur was murdered by his own father
carving our initials in a hotdog before it’s boiled
Daughter: *calling up the steps
Dad you almost ready?…We’re going to be late for my college orientation.
Me: *appears wearing just a toga
All set.
When I’m mad at my kids I like to sing the wrong lyrics to the music as I rage clean just to piss them off. That way we can all be mad at each other.
By the end of shelter at home, my house will be spotless. Oh sure, I’ll be drunk and confused, but so will the germs.
How to parallel park:
1) Park somewhere else.
6-year-old: When I grow up, do I have to get a job?
Me: Only if you want food and shelter.
6: *carefully considers her options*
If I had a time machine I would go back to certain conversations with my wife to see if she really said the things she’s told me I forgot…
Not to brag, but I’ve been told I’m a fine one to talk.
[eating a foot long sub]
*spits out tiny periscope*
9yo: Dad, how come you’re so good at Mario Kart but so bad at driving your car?
Me: Go to your room.
The day we decided such footwear would be called “flip-flops” was not our most creative moment.
If methane killed off the dinosaurs just imagine what I can do in an elevator.
a bottle of cyanide labeled GHOST PILLS
Overheard at work: “that is music to my ears”. Where else would the music go smartypants?
We only teach “stop, drop and roll” to put out fire but honestly if you do it in pretty much any social situation it will also stop that.
Just a little reminder..
If mushrooms can grow through shit, so can you.So can you!
The best part about Facebook is never having to wonder what your acquaintance’s baby is doing all day everyday day.
Dear diary,
Day 1 (8 AM)
For my own safety, I’ve decided to quarantine myself in my house. I have enough food to last me for six months.
Day 1 (10 AM)
I’ve run out of food.
Me: Try this chocolate chip.
3 year-old: Okay!
[gives him coffee bean]
3: UGH, YUCK!
-Me, saving all future chocolate chips for myself while also spending all future money on his therapy.
*walks into funeral while playing the mandolin*
“I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”
*dead guy sits up in casket*
No it sounds lovely. Keep going
*burst into doctor’s office*
ME: I’m no longer canstopetid
DOCTOR: You mean constipated
ME: No I’ve had a vowel movement
DOCTOR: Get out
BRAIN: here comes a compliment guys
HEART: yay!
ANXIETY: idk about this
INSECURITY: [bats it away] close one
[Opens hand sanitiser]
SUbmiT YoUr SOuL
tO EternAL HeLL fiRe
[closes lid]
wtf?
[looks at label]
LINDA YOU BOUGHT HAND SATANISER AGAIN
I hate that feeling after surgery when you’re not sure if you’re awake or asleep or if you operated on the right patient.
“How can I help you?
Hi I’d like a root canal
“Are you a patient here?”
No
“Who referred you to us?”
No one
“Ok then why-”
I have a Groupon
Got tazed at the zoo again for telling a group of kids that the dominant male in a pride of lions was called ‘The Mane Man’.
I accidentally rubbed ketchup in my eyes, now I have Heinz sight
Paula Hawkins: What should I call my book about a girl on a train?
Publicist: Let’s call the guy who named the movie ‘Snakes On A Plane’.
“Want me to help you with that tux?”
“No”
“Ok, suit yourself”