Your Daily Dose Of Unadulterated Funny Tweets

Honestly, guys. I’ve got a fox stuck in my washing machine. WHAT THE ACTUAL FOX

No coffin for me thanks. I want to be creamated and have my ashes stored in a nice Tupperware container.

[bar on St. Patrick’s Day]

him: SLANTY *clink*

me: I think you mean sláinte

him: no, slanty is how I stand after I drink Irish whiskey

*sees baby*
*crouches down, does some cute baby talk*
*no reaction from baby*
*stands up slowly*
You’ve made a powerful enemy today, baby

I wish I loved anything as much as my two year old loves pulling my pants down.

New parent: So you have been a parent for 4 years. Any insight?

Me: It’s great. Sometimes you want to escape by faking your own death. But I’m sure it’s just a phase.

New parent: Oh, ok. How long does that last?

Me: So far? 4 years.

Some of your neighbors’ doors are too sophisticated to be unlocked with a credit card. For everything else, there’s MasterCard®.

*Throws all 900 baby items in garbage*

*Buys Magic 8 Ball*

*Whispers*, This is how we raise you now.

[Sirens]
Dude open the door!

*barricading* How do i know you’re not 1 of them?! Were you bit?!

What?! Do you not know what a hurricane is?

Just undertaken the get on the scales to weigh yourself and off even quicker post-holiday move.

I hate when people ask me what I meant by something. Listen, I have no idea. I’m as confused here as you are.
We’re both learning what I’m about to say at the exact same time.

Me: You should have been more specific

Wife: When I said fill my car up, obviously I meant fuel

Me: ok that does make more sense

[flirting between USA and Canada]

Canadian: you’re my favourite.

American: no u.

I’m thinking about giving that Call of Duty game a shot, but first I’m gonna try one last time to get past level 4 on Duck Hunt.

*looks up*
*looks down*
*looks up*
*looks down*
*turns blueprints over*

“Shit.”

Sorry, I don’t think I can hang out this weekend, my 4-year-old is still telling a joke

Hell yes I want to apply for your store credit card. Let’s go through the entire process now while the shoppers in line behind me fantasize about my brutal murder.

Some days having kids makes it all worthwhile. I haven’t experienced any yet, but statistically they’re bound to happen at some point.

My 7 year old: *staring at my face*

Me: What is it, sweetie?

My 7 year old: Is my nose weird, too?

Kids are delightful.

Daughter: are ghosts real?

Me: no.

Daughter: grandma told me ghosts are real.

Me: honey, grandma passed away before you were bor-wait.

we lost our power
“why?”
a transformer blew up by our house
*eyes widen* “that’s awes-”
it’s not as cool as it sounds

Wife: he’s always confusing sayings…

Therapist: what if you’re just misinterpreting him?

Me: oooh, check you out playing devil’s avocado

the sexual tension between me and an extra hour of sIeep

About to throw up

My husband and I called my sweet, 85-year-old grandma to tell her I got a new job.

She congratulated us, talked for a bit, and then hung up.

Later she called me to say I should open a secret bank account and never tell my husband about it.

My grandma is fierce.

Me: sorry I can’t make it to your party tonight but I’m kinda popular & I can’t jeopardise that by being seen with you..

Daughter: wtf dad?

Before I had a child, I never knew that quietly disposing of a balloon could feel so much like a murder.

Just in case you’re thinking about having kids, I just broke up an argument about “excessive angry blinking” at each other.

*performs sax solo*
Whoops, typo.
*performs sex, solo*

[gently takes the Spider-Man franchise outside using a cup and piece of paper]
There you go, little buddy. You’re free now.