Fun game: if someone wants to shake your hand, sniff your fingers first and then see if they still want to.
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Who knew 20yrs after Debate class I’d apply those skills to present arguments to 7yo on why pasta shapes don’t change the taste of pasta.
*checks watch*
*gets up off toilet*
I don’t have time for this shit
Pirate Clark Kent: *takes off eye patch*
Pirate Lois Lane: OMG
BOSS: How’s the project going?
ME: It’s going okay.
BOSS: Are you worried it won’t be done in time?
ME: I’m not worried at all.
BOSS: Good.
ME: It absolutely won’t be done in time.
I wonder if Superman ever put glasses on Lois Lane’s dog & she was like, “I’ve never seen this dog before. Is this a new dog?”
Boss – can you pass a piss test?
Me – Sure…distance or accuracy?
My 4yo just told his fish that he “needs a little space.” Dude, just step away from the tank.
Whacked myself on the butt with a fly swatter just to feel something
Like boxes of shit in your house? Get a cat.
People in glass houses can throw whatever they want. They live in a glass house, I’m not expecting them to be practical
Daughter: Dad, can I have some Kit Kat for my snack tonight?
Me: Absolutely not
D: Why?
M: Because I said so
D: Because you ate them?
M: Yes
I’m really glad my dog doesn’t tell anyone about the conversations we have together. Then people would really think I’m crazy.
Double whammy. First date is turning out to be fun & I also go to meet my hero Chris Hansen from Catch a Predator.
I love to watch the look of panic on my husband’s face when I pull a pair of panties out of my drawer and say, “um, these aren’t mine.”
Before we were married, my wife was like a tiger in the bedroom.
Now she’s more like a possum.
She plays dead whenever a snake approaches.
She’s only nine, but my daughter sings Adele like she’s already been through countless devastating break-ups
Banana boats are powered by bananas. Everyone knows this.
*rolls up on dance battle*
Sick moves bruh. You know who else had sick moves? Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ
*hands out pamphlets*
Horror Movie Protagonist – *uses dead person’s grimy-blood-covered-severed hand to unlock the fingerprint lock on their phone to call for help*
Me – *can’t get the fingerprint lock on my phone to recognize my recently-washed-clean finger when I forget my password again*
ME: *sighs* yep, story of my life
EDITOR: please stop saying that every time you hand me a draft of your autobiography
After my upteenth gentle attempt to express my disinterest in the subject matter:
“pardon me, but what sequence of words can I use to end this conversation?” “
Apparently, this is how the world ends.
“You’ve reached 911”
Knock knock
“Sir ple-”
Knock knock
“This is not-”
Knock knock
“ok, who’s there?”
Ben
“Ben who”
Ben shot real bad
“NICE”
“I Didn’t Want This But I Ate it Anyway to Keep Myself from Eating the Worse Thing and Then I Ate That Too”, an autobiography.
[bank robbery]
Robber 1: put money in the bag
Robber 2: how come u get to be robber 1?
Robber 4: how do u think I feel. There’s only 3 of us
[whispering to my wife with tears in my eyes as we watch our daughter’s piano recital] She’s terrible
I wonder what the part of my brain that used to store people’s phone numbers is doing now.
Was putting away laundry and spotted this betrayal in my wife’s closet. Troubling times my friends, troubling times.