Her: Please be on your best behavior.
Me: I assure you that I can meet that standard and still offend pretty much everyone.
By all means, autocorrect, let’s respond to my mother’s “Good morning” text with “God, moron.”
If you put on country music in my car, I have one question:
How the hell did you break into my car?
Teacher: Who knows what Pennsylvania is famous for?
5: Pencils. Duh.
If our bodies are the result of “intelligent design,” explain sneezes.
I’ll wait.
Me: Time for bed, son. I don’t make the rules.
6: OK. But who makes the rules?
Me:
6:
Both of us: Mom.
Her: I always secretly believed I was the lucky one in our relationship. Bet you felt the same!
Me: True. I also secretly thought you were the lucky one.
Her:
Me: Guess you should’ve kept that secret, huh?
[date]
Him: Would it bother you to learn that I’m married?
Her: Look, I don’t believe in bigamy.
Him: So size doesn’t matter either? Phew!
Ever notice how people who say “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission” never actually ask for forgiveness, either?
It took me three decades to become an overnight success.
When someone accuses me of making up a word I severely chastigate them.
Me: Do we really have to share my dessert?
Her: Don’t worry, I eat like a bird.
[ER visits, by age]
Doctor: How did this happen?
Me at 24: I was trying to dunk a basketball.
Me now: I was reaching for my glasses.
I can count on three hands the number of times I failed math and anatomy.
“Great choice. California is known for its chickens.”
– me, trying to impress a date who ordered the California Chicken Salad