My husband is a weekend DIY-er. He’s always heading off to Home Depot or Lowe’s, so much so that it’s a standing joke that he’s going to see his girlfriend there.
The other day, he was going to Home Depot and said, “It won’t take long.”
I replied, completely deadpan, “It never does.” Then I burst out laughing at the expression on his face. Yeah, it was kinda mean, but he laughed, too!
“Jesus Christ!”
“Shhh! Don’t blow my cover! Remember what happened last time?”
I wasn’t actually there for this one.
The scene: A mini-van filled with couples who have left their children behind for the evening. They are driving across town to a restaurant that the driver had never been to.
Driver: Does anyone know how to get to the restaurant?
[My mom volunteers that she’d be able to find the restaurant if she were driving, but isn’t sure how to describe how to get there]
Driver: Pretend you are driving.
[Mom puts her hands in the air, as if they were on an invisible steering wheel]
Dad: No, pretend I’m driving.
They all roared.
I think this came from bash.org, and I’m still looking for an excuse to use it myself: When confronted on the street by someone asking “Are you saved?” reply “Yeah, there was a checkpoint about 2 miles back, I can respawn from there if I die.”
WAG: When Dad is driving, he gets a constant stream of instructions from Mom. So as, for once, that’s exactly what’s needed, she should act as if he was driving.
Yup.
Ah, OK. Lightbulb has ensued. That’s pretty good!
My dad is, by definition, a California driver. I, being from the great state of AZ, am not.
Trips to dads nearly always involve me holding the Oh-shit bar in a death grip while trying to decide if I find religion before he wraps us around a tree.
A couple of years back we decided to take a day trip from his house in Ventura, CA up to a lovely little Danish town called Solvang. He wanted to drive. :eek:
My stepmom, son and best friend all opted to let me ride shotgun for this trip, presumably because everyone figured they’d have a greater rate of survival in the back seat.
So I buckle in, wrap my hand around the door handle and brace myself for impact. We hop on the freeway and before I know I’m nervously saying things like, “Omg, they’re braking in front of us!” “Um, dad? There’s someone already in that lane.”
He turned to me, totally straight-faced and said, “Look, Shan… I know the arrangement of the seats might be confusing, but this is not a co-pilot situation.”
:smack: pwnd.
This is one little crack up from one of my ex-boyfriends:
him: “I just love it when your put your hair in pigtails, it really looks cute.”
me: “Yeah, well, that’s because you are a pedophile.”
him: “What an awfully big word for such a little girl.”
A couple months ago, my oldest got my wife with an instant classic. Mrs D. was in an grumpy mood. She had a really hard day that day watching her niece and nephew. She had just finished cooking dinner and had sit down to eat when one of my kids burped at the table. This prompted the rest of my kids to all start burping at the table, trying to out do each other.
Finally my wife had enough and loudly declared to the whole table, “No bodily functions at the dinner table!”
My oldest didn’t miss a beat and said, “I’m chewing my food. That’s a bodily function. I’m breathing. That’s a bodily function too.”
I couldn’t help myself and started laughing hysterically. The other kids joined in. Mrs. D got even madder, but she couldn’t deny the excellent wit that my oldest had just shown and she eventually joined in too.
R.E.M.'s song These Days
from Life’s Rich Pageant, released 1986.
This is a recent one.
My boyfriend is from Wyoming and though he’s lived in San Francisco and Seattle he retains a certain amount of “down-home flavor” so to speak.
I was born and raised in the Seattle area, but attended a prestigious all-women’s college back east for a couple of years.
A couple of nights ago we were out at a bar near his house and I, forgetting my public manners, let fly with a huge, loud belch.
As I clapped my hand over my mouth and started to giggle, he looks at me and says:
“Ya learn that in finishing school?”
…at which point I started giggling like mad and couldn’t stop for a couple of minutes.
(He cracks me up. One of the reasons I lurve him.)
Just remembered one that happened in college.
Scene: A girl was laughing hysterically, almost to the point of hyperventilating. Everybody had stopped laughing (except her), and a guy she had broken up with recently walks in.
Him: Whoah, that looks like your “O” face.
Her: How would you know?!
It didn’t help her stop laughing. 
We were in one of our staff meetings at work and we were talking about which charity we were going to focus on for our giving campiagn we do. My boss’s boss said she wanted to use this specific charity. Someone asked what they were and she said “they’re for women’s abuse”.
To which I piped up, “Well I’m against that so we shouldn’t use them”.
A co-worker hits on every woman he meets (literally) - one night everyone had gone out, he leans over to a girl at the bar:
him: “so…how do you like your eggs in the morning?”
her: “unfertilized”…picks up her drink and walks away…
I don’t know if it was original to her but I thought it was awesome.
Was the bartender wearing a beret?
Goddamnit, I was going to link to that!
Every once and a while I get a good zinger in.
It was the summer of 1985, I had just started as a technician at a new dealership. A few days in, I was working on a car and my service manager came up with a pile of letters, and a signature sheet. He says "I need you to read this letter, and sign acknowledging that you got a copy.
as my hands are arms were very greasy as I was installing something I said "Sure just give me a second to get this last bolt in, and I will sign it.
As I am cleaning my hands to sign the form I say "By the way, what is the letter about?
“Sexual harassment” he says
“No problem, I just have one question. Are for it or against it?”
I thought my boss was going to blow a gasket, then he just started laughing.
I had done some design work for a friend and was having a hard time collecting my money for it. I think he was ducking me. I pulled into a Kinko’s parking lot and there he was talking to a couple of people. Feeling a little bratty, I yelled out the window, “You owe me money!”
He waved me over and introduced me to his new clients, who started talking about how they were going to build a house on the golf course. This led the the guy (client) telling us a joke:
Why do they call golf “golf”?
Shit was already taken.
Then he goes back into asking me about what I do.
Friend’s client: So what do you call yourself, a designer?
My friend: Yes, golf was already taken.