November 10, 2016
Me: You computing the music for your next fart, or what?
November 9, 2016
Wife: Ice cream makes her fart harmonics! How is that not funny?
September 29, 2016
Wife: That’s not relaxing pooping music.
July 26, 2016
Wife: [Twelve-Year-Old], you will not ever have to have an oompah band you don’t want.
March 18, 2016
Me: I lean on you when I’m not strong.
Wife: I smell like crayons.
It’s my little girl’s birthday today!
January 21, 2016
Eleven-Year-Old: What if disco isn’t dead?
What if moths chew off my head?
December 15, 2015
Me: I’m not a professor, but I play one on my cello.
November 26, 2015
Me: So I’ve got about another twenty-five years to run this blog.
Wife: Uh… oh.
Me: After I’ve actually got ten thousand posts, I’m going to hire somebody to do an interpretive reading.
Wife: What? Ten thousand? That’ll take hours… days.
Me: Maybe I can get Neil Gaiman’s wife.
July 20, 2015
Wife: It’s not your party.
Me: No, I was thinking, “It’s my anus, and I’ll fart if I want to.”
Wife: I don’t always need to know what’s going on in your head.