Your Daily Dose Of Unadulterated Funny Tweets

Remember when mowhawks meant you were a tough punk rocker?

Now they just mean that you’re 3 and your parents are idiots.

This text is literally my relationship with my mother:

If I chase you, it’s most definitely with a chainsaw.

(what they said)
Please do not bring any alcohol on the plane.

(what I heard)
Please chug all alcohol & slap somebody before boarding.

me: “hey who’s your favourite child?”
wife: “we’re not supposed to have a favourite”
me: “why not? i do”
wife: “who?”
me: “macaulay culkin, home alone 2”

Sometimes I think about when I told my 10 year old he could be like me when he grew up because I was trying to be cool and he said YAY, I GET TO LAY ON A HEATING PAD ALL DAY

Probably the slowest way to die is sloth with a knife.

My 3-year-old said, “Daddy, you’re big & strong like a garbage truck.” Thanks, I think. I often view of myself as a mobile trash receptacle.

Looks like I picked the wrong century to start selling encyclopedias door to door.

That tattoo of wings on your back are good. But wings that small could hardly get you off the ground though. *reveals full body wing tattoo*

“Here comes Paul. We better turn red, fast!”

– every stoplight

I’ve just had to let my trousers out.

They wanted to go for a walk and I couldn’t be bothered.

Incense sticks are just disappointing sparklers.

Dear 16, There are other ways to meet girls besides backing your car into theirs. Love, Exasperated Mom

Medical offices are like “download our patient portal where we’ll post your lab results then fax us your request for a username and password”

The great thing about playing the accordion is no one knows if you’re good at it or not.

My prompt email replies are 10% due to me being a diligent employee, and 90% due to the crippling OCD that compels me to clear my inbox.

There comes a point in every day that we all have to do something we don’t like.

[Gets out of bed]

GF told me she wanted to write her “biography” & I said “autobiography” & now there’s a chapter where I sleep at my place.

Maybe Adele is singing about her cats. You don’t know.

[stranded on a desert island]

*finds a message in a bottle*

hey honey, where do we keep the teabags?

If I ever really want my kids’ attention I can just make a YouTube video of me “unboxing” whatever I need to say.

All I do is answer emails all day. I don’t care whose emails. If I see an email, I answer it. No open computer is safe. My family is worried

aura

Screw you, targeted Facebook ad for adult diapers!

*thinks about not having to pause TV or games*

*orders some*

me: *summoning the hotdog demon by nailing a shitload of hotdogs to the wall in the shape of a pentagram*

hotdog demon: *sigh* not you again

Scientists found there may not be as many benefits to flossing as we thought. Guess none of them have ever been to a party with spinach dip.

An escape room but it’s just me trying to put on my hoodie with one sleeve inside out.

Why don’t Elvis impersonators call themselves the next best King?

i aspire to be the type of grandparent that my grandkids can differentiate from a wolf wearing a nightgown