I watch football on a dodgy box but follow the match on twitter. There is about a 1 minute delay with the dodgy box so I give my prediction to my son as to who will score next. My record is 100% and my son thinks I’m a genius.
You Might Also Like
If the US ever decides to change its currency from the dollar to the unmatched tupperware lid I’ll be a very wealthy man.
I’ve just got a job making plastic Draculas.
There are only 2 of us on the production line, so I have to make every second Count.
*Microsoft Teams when you don’t move your mouse for 12 seconds* THIS GUY’S AWAY EVERYONE. EVERYONE, THIS GUY’S AWAY. WHAT’S HE UP TO? ITS NOT LUNCHTIME SO WHY’S HE AWAY? SOMETHING IMPORTANT? NOT FOR ME TO SPECULATE. JUST FLAGGING.
The name “Boeing” makes so much sense now considering it’s basically the sound of something hitting the ground and bouncing.
Maybe it’s time for a second child. The first one isn’t getting as many likes on Facebook now.
ME: whats our policy on dogs in the office
BOSS: no dogs
ME: [about to hand over my dog’s resume but I pull it back just in time] haha duh
Driving in Europe vs Canada
I don’t like grudges. My Aunt kept grudges. I’ve always hated her for it.
my mom when anyone would walk on the carpet she just vacuumed
My son left a package of cookies at my house then texted me asking me to not let anyone eat them.
So now I’m snapchatting him videos of me eating all his cookies and reminding him of all the times I asked him to do something and he didn’t.
me: congrats on running that marathon.
her: thanks. I’m still sore.
me: because you didn’t win?
her:
have respect for every human life. we are all made in gods image. big computers on top. buncha important balloons in the middle. stilts.
Wife: “How did your first day as a lifeguard go?”
Me: “Amazingly well, thanks. Everyone was so friendly and waving at me.”
Before seeing why your toddler has been quiet for 10 mins it’s best to first call the plumber and write your apology letter to the landlord.
Never invite a renegade cop from a 90s action movie over for board game night. They play by their own rules!
We put a man on the moon in 1969, and if you elect me to be your president, I promise that we will not stop until every man is on the moon.
The FedEx guy said I look like a sexy pirate. I’m not sure if that’s considered sexual harassment or flirting.
So, wearing fur is wrong but wearing a Hawaiian shirt is OK? Do they even know how many Hawaiians had to die to make that shirt?
Cop: Know why I pulled u over?
Me: [slams fist on dash] NO, WHY?!
Cop: Settle down sir
Me: [marries, has kids, gives up ambitions]
Cop: …
My niece asked me if I was planning on getting banged at the work party
She meant hammered.
Yep! Hammered
Me: You’re leaving me again?
Her: (packing)
Me: Is it because I mix up the suffixes for ordinal numbers?
Her: (walking downstairs)
Me: ..my misuse of common sayings?
Her: (opening door)
Me: Come on, one more chance!
Her: (car starting)
Me, yelling: 5rd time’s a charm!
[wakes up & turns to wife]
“I had a nightmare. You died.”
“Aw. It was just a-”
“Let me finish. You died & I had to make my breakfast.”
Samurai holding sword: now we fight to the death
Me nervously clicking pen on: they better be right about this
Trash truck: [emptying my garbage bins]
Me [running out of house with 2020 under my arms]: HOLD ON A MINUTE
“where am i bro?”
THIS IS SPARTA
“thanks. cute puppy bro”
THIS IS MUFFINS
Arguing with strangers on the internet is like yelling at a parking meter. I mean, I still do it sometimes, but nobody wins.
Spiders can live in my house until they get big enough where I feel compelled to find them before I fall asleep.
Now, everyone come help me find Carl.
The worst is when you eat onions and then your fingers smell like onions and your breath smells like onions and you turn to your left and your dog has turned into an onion and you look out the window and the moon is an onion. Everything is onion now. Everything.
me: i’ve been hearing voices
psychiatrist:
me:
psychiatrist: u don’t have a psychiatrist
I refuse to wear a mask into the store. “Ma’am, we can’t let you in here,” one of the associates explains. I storm off in a huff. The year is 2005, and I am once again too ugly to buy cream cheese