With great facial hair comes great responsibility.
Spider-Man’s not real kids, but he becomes real & appears any time a kid says he prefers Superman or Batman. And then he beats that kid up.
It’s great how schools have the kids put on these plays so that parents can spend some real quality time with their smartphones.
This school play that’s entirely in Spanish is as boring as the screenplay to The Remains of the Day Part 2 that I just wrote in my head.
“Learn to tie my shoes? Dad . . . I’m not sixteen or something.”
I can’t remember why I liked Memento.
Dude walked into waiting room w/ his Cowboys hat tilted at the same goofy angle as his son’s. Turns out I can laugh & barf at the same time.
But the middle of the bed *is* my side.
Today’s manhood challenge: having makeup applied to face by daughter while discussing best petit fours to serve at her wedding to Wolverine.
3rd weekend in row w/o wife. Am running out of ideas. Suggested kids put on a play where their characters are kids who entertain themselves.
I need to start partying with people who can handle their sugar high.
Stupid autocorrect turned “hump” into “jump” – like I’d ever be texting about jumping.
I’m the Planck’s constant of not wearing ties and not understanding Planck’s constant.
And then, like a werewolf with herpes, the NPR pledge drive returns.
I just carried a sleeping 5 year-old in one arm & 2 large pizzas in the other, all while talking into the phone on my shoulder. Son of Zeus?
Kids, would you look a how many towels you just used? Jesus. If I ever did any laundry around here I’d be pissed.
The wine guy acted like I was joking when I told him I’d be pairing it with hamburger dills and cheez-its.
“Tits!” – Vegas.
Partying tip: if you’re going to drink red wine at dinner & then an absinthe based Orange Poppy later on, I advise dying before morning.
It just takes one asshole with a cigar.
It’s too much to bear to know that when I die, my knowledge of how to properly load a dishwasher will die with me.
Kids, I’d like a few minutes alone with what’s left of your Easter candy.
If only there were a modern replacement for the mixed tape so that I could be sad about nobody ever giving me whatever that would be too.
My safeword is “safeword!”
I think what you meant to say was: “Michael, you’re wonderful.” Because it sounded more like “Aaaaaaahhhhhh! You’re stressing me out!!!”
Being a good listener means being able to nod your head as if you were listening while fighting the urge to look at your phone.
Just touched an old kitchen sponge and now I have to cut off my hand.
Let that brief power outage be a lesson to you kids – many children in the third world don’t have electricity to charge their iPads.
My three-year-old walked in on me peeing and said “Daddy, your penis is very giant” and now he will inherit my entire estate.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I need to learn at least one other thing.
People may forget the things you say or do, but they’ll never forget you crapping your pants at 5th grade bible camp.
Not gonna lie: I’m probably gonna lie.