Sitting out in my front yard pointing a hair dryer at speeding cars to see if any slow down.

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ACCOUNTANT: *taking a look at my books* These are just winky-face emojis.
ME: Yep.
ACCOUNTANT: I think I know why your business is failing.


I’m so old, I remember when a hashtag was called a pound sign.

And before that, we used to play Tic-Tac-Toe on that shit.


A fun gym game is to drag your treadmill behind someone else’s, and then run with a determined glare while holding a bat.


When one door closes, I lock it.
I’m not chancing someone else getting in.


“I can’t wait to see what my Happy Meal prize is! Wait…what the -”

[U2 is playing a free concert in the box]


I’m not sure if Tom Petty is dead, but I’m absolutely sure journalism is.


10: “What are we doing today?

Me: “We’re gonna make tacos.”

10: “Then what are we going to do?”

Me: “…I’ll be eating tacos.”


Not to brag but my wife and I can hold complete conversations by rage loading the dishwasher