PROUD PARENT
Michelle finally experienced
the moment she'd been waiting for
her whole parental career.
“My daughter called me, yelling
‘Oh my God Mom, something’s
wrong with the car!’”
So I slow her down, and I say
“OK baby, so when it stopped
what did it sound like?”
“What do mean ‘what did it sound like?!
THE RADIO WAS ON
IT SOUNDED LIKE MUSIC!!”
Michelle waved her hands around,
one with a cigarette in its yoke, eventually
forming a ‘whoa, time out’ kind of T.
“So I say ‘look, turn off Taylor Swift
and describe what the car sounds like.’
And she says ‘it’s not Taylor Swift, mom
it’s Highway to Hell.’ And I'm like ‘OK, at least
I gave the kid good musical taste. Now
I just need to get her a Triple-A card.”
NO OFFENSE, ABE
A trim, fit young woman
crossed the porch of a sports bar
in front of a trim, fit young boyfriend
who looked like he could beat anyone
at any sport he choose. He flung open
the front door and the woman strode in,
leaving Todd and Brian
leering in her wake.
Todd said “God bless the guy
who invented yoga pants. There is
a special place in heaven
waiting just for him.”
Brian nodded. “Right up there
with whoever invented the bikini.”
“Yep,” Todd agreed, his eyes
scanning the front window in hope
that the woman might slide into view,
the way a dog patrols a dinner table
for any dropped scraps.
“Yeah,” he added, “I mean,
nothing against Abraham Lincoln
and his Constitution, but what good is
Emancipation without that kind
of proclamation?”
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