Your Joke Is Factually Incorrect – A Guide to Dying Alone.

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Yes, Pitbull, we are having a good time. Please stop asking every two minutes.


I should start a wine company and name the bottles things like “don’t be sad” “he’s not worth it” “you deserve better”!


My son curses like I make love. He has no idea how to do it and someone usually yells at him and tells him to stop before he’s finished.


Thought for the day:

Shouldn’t you really have more than one thought each day?


I think Diane knows I was her Secret Santa at this morning’s office party, because this afternoon I had to borrow my stapler back from her.


“Why don’t you cool it on the dressmaking,” I suggested to my wife. “You seamstressed.”


Sure my kids were embarrassed when I asked to have a manager come to our table, but the menu didn’t list a 50¢ charge for extra ranch dressing and I’m hella pissed.


5-year-old at recess: “My throat feels like sticks are stuck in it.”

Me: “Do you think you’re getting sick?”

5-year-old: “Yes. Also, I just ate some mulch.”


Being the tallest person at work, leads me to believe they hired me because they were short staffed.


4: Let’s hunt turkeys, Daddy.

Me: How do we do that?

4: Put up a big sign that says, “Come here, Turkeys!”

I might be raising Elmer Fudd.