A popular public transit app’s year end recap labeled me “Lord Tool, the Bus Punk”.

Uh, alright, I guess?

The dentist’s office has full-blown novels in the waiting room, which bodes ill for expected waiting times.

My coworker Secret Santa gets me.

A seasonal reminder that a “fun size” Twix bar would be roughly the size of my forearm, and anything less is false advertising.

When I see the HH logo on clothing, my first thought is Harter House, a local butcher shop where I grew up. My second thought is Hamburger Helper, and I think that’s probably the correct answer.

“Challenge: Name the worst possible TV show you can imagine.”

This is what a dare looks like.

This is a copy-paste of a conversation I just had with my kid.

Kid: Can I get a ride home at like 10:15

Me: Yeah

Kid: Never mind im gonna be here late

Me: Oh, OK

Kid: Okay like can u do 10:17?

That’s still within the margin of error of when I was going to be there in the first place.

Girl Scout outside the grocery: Sir, would you like to buy some cookies?

Me: I’ll catch you on the way out.

Scout: We’re about to leave.

Me: OK, you talked me into it. My wife told me I’m not allowed to bring a bunch of these home, though.

Scout: What kind does she like? Get some of those and then she won’t mind!

And that’s how they got me.

My wife ordered a new shower curtain that is advertised as, quote, “waterproof”. I would hope so.