Me (to my date): Wow, look at us just hanging outside the bearded barley beneath this milky twilight…

Now that I am married and a parent, I’ll catch myself doing things my dad used to do that I hated. Like cheating on my wife.

When the dump you left in your bathroom is so bad that you literally go to jail.

I want to dance with somebody but I do NOT, under any circumstance, want to feel the heat with somebody. Please advise.

Not one investor interested in my movie, “John Wicks Booth.” Unbelievable.

Imagine having the name John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt and some idiot in town has the same fucking name.

🍁 Can’t wait for the Fall (of mankind).

For Sale: Baby shoes (never worn). Everything is fine, babies just outgrow stuff fast.

*me angrily watching my kid during the Easter egg hunt. Brain: oh look who suddenly knows how to pick shit up now.

Moon getting right in the way like a husband in the kitchen, and everyone all excited.

If it’s not a total eclipse of the heart, I’m not interested.

Her: “what are you thinking about?” My brain: “shirt stains are just food scars.” Me: “oh… the economy.”

If a drummer boy showed up to do a drum solo for my sleeping infant as a gift, I’d kill him.

Accidentally call a crib “the baby garage” and all of sudden I can’t babysit anymore.

Any LA followers who need some help. DM me.

I’m more of an under the influencer.

Is there a Narcan for mozzarella sticks?

I’d be more embarrassed that I was at a Coldplay concert tbh.

Slack status: Raptured