First day as a drug dealer. Made a ton of sales. Boy are people forgetful, they all left their wallets at home.Gonna be rich tomorrow though

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GUY: I heard a pianist keyed ur car. What are u gonna do?

[flash forward to me hitting the pianist’s piano with my car]

ME: car his keys.


Someone: he doesn’t look so good.

Someone else: we have to say the magic words!

Chanting: whiskey, bacon, tacos, pizza, whiskey, bacon, tacos, pizza…

Me: *slowly rises from the dead*


The wife says the only hard things allowed in my house nowadays are boiled eggs, sudoku puzzles and the hats of the surprising number of construction workers who come by whilst I’m at work to quote for a new patio.

Surprising, because we live in a 3rd floor apartment.


Google Search:
-is my toaster broken
-can fire ants make toast
-bathtub fire, small
-house fire, how to stop
-is house fire toast a thing?


God invented co-workers to remind us that dying alone wouldn’t be such a bad thing.


House is clean. Time to sell the children and move.


Daughter just told me, “Dad, I don’t make sandwiches, I eat sandwiches.”

One day her picture will be on money.


I gave myself whiplash. It couldn’t be helped. Bohemian Rhapsody came on, and my kids weren’t gonna teach themselves how to head bang.