Him: The kids and I had a game night. There was a good bit of arguing and some crying.

Me: Oh? …how did the kids behave?

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Me: Now I am become death. The destroyer of worlds.

Him: Stop talking to your burrito and just eat it.


The voices in my head have been quiet for a while. They probably broke something.


Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch an ounce of ganja
Jack lit up and took a puff
And Jill cuffed him. She was DEA. Jack died in prison.


Q. Why are ghostbusters afraid of bridges over small rivers?
A. Because they’re not supposed to cross the streams


ME: i joined CrossFit

PRIEST: again, kind of weird but not a sin


My 4 yr old: I wish I was a nurse.
Me: You can be one day, if you want.
Him: *sadly shaking head* No. I’m going to be a Power Ranger.


My grocery store keeps rearranging the produce section. If I need to work this hard to find bananas, there better be a damn tropical breeze!


Thanks, I wrote the tweet. There’s no need to reiterate it back to me with quotation marks.


It’s because it’s Bring Your Daughter To Work Day, sweetie. That’s why. What Papa is doing right now is called an “autopsy”. Stop crying.