I think marriage should be between a robot and a spider horse because I’m a retarded man child and this is what I bring to the conversation.

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911: What’s your emergency?
Me: Someone is eating pineapple on pizza!
911: That’s-


before you criticize someone remember they’re a human being just like you with flaws and insecurities and if you focus on those it’s easier to make them cry


LUCY: Dad, how did I get my name?
ME (signing contract in blood): Ok but can we at least shorten it?
LUCIFER: That’s fine


I shouldn’t say this aloud but which idiot called it bug spray and not buzz kill


Interviewer: Can we call your former employer for a reference?
Me: Not if you’re considering me for the job.


[trying to be the cool dad]

me: what is up lit fam

15yo: dad, please stop

me: what are the goals of your squad


[IKEA meatball recipe]
1/2 lb ground beef
1/2 cup cream
1 small onion finely chopped
4 allen wrenches
20 minute argument
2 tbsp butter
lingonberry or some shit
you’re doing it wrong
salt to taste
just let me do it


Following a series of poor personal decisions I now owe the ferret mafia six grand and my only way out is to be the driver for a meat heist planned by a squirrel dragged back in for one last job, assisted by a weasel nobody trusts. Not even the stoat bagman.


When a guy wearing shorts and sandals to a bar is picking out songs on the jukebox, it’s going to end badly for everyone.