Me: Here.
Wife: Olives and French toast. There we go.
Me [singing]: Breakfast of champions.


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.


September 6, 2016

Me [singing]: If I had a hammer
Wife: … you’d go on disability.


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.