Even autocorrect has no idea where I’m going with this.

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Me: “Sorry I’m late. Car trouble.”

Him: “What kind of car trouble?”

Me: “It doesn’t go 200 miles an hour to compensate for my late start.”


I bring our baby to the bar so I can throw her at people and slurp down their cocktails while they’re trying to catch her.


My Doberman sits on other dogs to assert dominance. I’m going to try this with my co-workers.


I’m definitely the most successful guy in this dollar store.

Oh, wait.

That guy has a tuxedo t-shirt.

I’m the second most successful guy.


My daughter has recently become deathly afraid of our cat. So I’m going to have to get rid of her. At least I’ll have my cat to comfort me.


Sorry I screamed in terror when you showed me that pic of your offspring. She’s a very lovely whatever the hell she is.


Our elf has only been here two nights and hasn’t bothered to move from her spot. We’re having a performance review this evening and if she doesn’t get her shit together she’s getting fired just like that good for nothing tooth fairy did last summer.


He asked if I was into anal, then got all weird when I pulled out my strap-on. Advice?


Dear Kelloggs,

Cereal that makes them go back to sleep.

Tired parents