i’ve dated so many tools i could open a home depot
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[angrily taking off banana suit] “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to a funeral”
Her: MOM! C’MERE!
Her: Oops never mindHer: MOM! MOM!
Her: Oops false alarmHer: WOW! MOM!
Her: Oops my bad[my dog at the window]
“Owen, you must hide this baby from Anakin Skywalker at all costs.”
“Okay. Should we continue to call him Luke Skywalker?”
“That’s cool.”
Him: My tummy feels crummy.
Me: Too much rummy, dummy.
“Punch it bro, the lights gray.”
5 has poison ivy on his entire body so if you wondered what would make a 5 yo more annoying it’s having poison ivy on his entire body.
*Naming my child*
WIFE: What’s the girl version of Matt?
ME:… Mattress?
Parenting is playing hide and seek with your kids but never trying to find them because you enjoy the downtime
(at a party)
them: truth or dare.
me: dare.
them: go home.
I’ll host Thanksgiving if I can wear a bejeweled pantsuit and throw a wine glass at a painting while saying, “Goddammit, Daniel, nobody cares about your novel.”
[walking away from taco truck]
WIFE: whats wrong
ME: nothing
WIFE: did u think the truck would be one giant taco
ME: *wiping away tears* no
Haunted Houses this year are just gonna have the news on.
Me: I’ll take these shovels. Do you carry limes
Cashier: *suspicious* Do you mean lime?
Me: Which one goes in rum and coke?
Cashier: Limes
Me: The other one, the dead body one
*pitching the concept of twitter* what if your diary hated you
Idk how we’re supposed to tell when bleu cheese has gone bad. It’s already bad. Do we just check on it periodically to see if it’s getting worse? Then one day say “this cheese is too worse” and toss it out?
interviewer: we just have one concern
me: [unsheathing] is it about the sword I brought
interviewer: well it is now
interviewer 2: holy shit
interviewer 3: awesome
Why did Shrek go with Smashmouth’s All-Star and not Roxette’s “It Must’ve Been Love (But It’s Ogre Now)”
The “bangles to politicians” insult says “come be weak like women because the weak wear bangles”. No thanks, “self-proclaimed real men”.
All I want for Christmas is you.
Buried in my backyard.
I’m so glad we could finally reconnect after all these years because I’d really like your help on my virtual farm.
I’m into the “girl next door” type. Until the restraining order takes effect and I have to move.
Then I’m into the “cute, angry girl that’s always 50ft away from me” type.
I clean my house before going away like burglars give yelp reviews.
ME: *holding my crying newborn son* There. There. I ALSO find myself very upsetting.
Whoever came up with *gobsmacked* should name all of our emotional responses.
Son: *placing Dunkin Donuts order* So you want a latté?
Me: Nah I just want a little.
Son: …goddammit Mom…
My son cried yesterday because:
– he “doesn’t want to carry two things” (school bag and lunch bag)
– i pushed the button on the elevator and he wanted to do it
– his nanny said hello and he’s “too tired to greet”
– didn’t like the shirt he was wearing anymore
– wanted to write M
I luv putting on warm underwear straight out of the DRYER…
Plus, it’s fun to figure out who they belong to at the laundromat.
My grandfather built his house with his bare hands.
I just groaned after I put my shoes on because now I have to tie them.
A man suffered a heart attack at the drive thru. I quickly Macgyvered a pencil to his electric car & defibrillated him. I was that hungry.
I like my salad like my poker opponents – obscured from view by a massive f****** pile of my chips.