Quotes About Humor

Why are you so hung up on my not having a cell phone?" "Hung up?" He laughed. "Hung up. Cell phone. Get it?" She rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop herself from laughing with him.

Why do you have a baby shower? So the baby doesn't stink!

Sean had to get out of the house or he was totally going to lose it. He wasn't sure if that meant punching a hole in the wall or tossing Emma over his shoulder and carrying her off to bed caveman-style, but either was a bad idea. Time to go for a ride and get some space, but first he stuck another sticky note to the mirror and uncapped the Sharpie. You can hold my hand or pat my head or scratch my belly but don't rub the back of my neck again unless you want to get naked.

There was, however, a sticky note on the mirror. Gassy? Payback's a bitch, honey. She laughed and dropped the note into the bottom drawer with the others she'd collected. They amused her too much to throw away and sometimes she'd pull one out and reread it. But that made her feel like some kind of lovesick teenager, so she closed the door and continued the search.

Then he lifted his head and looked down into her face. "Before we go any further, one more thing." She groaned. "Seriously?" "One wisecrack about a magic penis," he warned, "and I don't care if I have to dump ice cubes down my pants, I'll walk away. Bowlegged, probably, but I'll walk." She laughed and slid her hands under her back to undo her bra. "I'll try to contain myself.

I'm not naming my child after a sports person. No Tom Brady Kowalski. No Derek Jeter or whatever Kowalski." "Jesus, Beth." He almost ran off the road. "Jeter's a freakin' Yankee. I wouldn't even name an ugly, three-legged, one-eyed, rabid and mangy dog I hated Jeter, never mind my own son. Whatever you do, don't ever talk sports with anybody at Jasper's.

You're worrying already and you're not even on the plane yet." "Maybe you should get a fake dog." Emma laughed and wrapped her arms around Gram.

He grinned, a naughty grin that probably weakened her granddaughter's knees.

I ran into a friend of yours today," he told her. "Oh, yeah?" "Tall. Hot. Batshit crazy?

Hailey shook her head. "Nobody cares about the meatloaf, Paige. Mitch is in town for six weeks and you could do with a little less tension. Don't want you killing anybody. "So what you're saying is that I have to have sex with Mitch to save lives?" "Absolutely.

If you're looking for sympathy, it's between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.

Like agreeing to learn the doggy paddle and being shoved off the high-dive board. And to keep things interesting, somebody told Bobby, Kevin's youngest nephew, the baby could hear stuff, and he was determined to make his new cousin his BFF in utero. It was a bit disconcerting having a kid randomly tell bad jokes to her stomach. Like now. "Why did the weasel cross the road?" he yelled at her belly button. "To prove it wasn't a chicken!

That's the important stuff. I could write it on a sticky note, if you want, along with my favorite sexual position. Which isn't missionary, by the way." It was right there on the tip of her tongue—then what is your favorite sexual position?—but she bit it back.

Hey, Mitch," he called after him. "We don't really have to cook our meals on sticks, do we?" Mitch shrugged. "Depends on how badly we piss off the women. Word to the wise, behave yourself on burger night because it's a bitch to keep them on a stick.

I'm an unorthodox type of guy, a funny guy - at least I think I'm funny. And one of the things I like to do is come up with nicknames for myself.

Y'all reporters like my quotes, don't you. Yeah, my quotes are Shaqalicious.

The women in the kitchen sang: Sarampión toca la puerta. Viruela dice: ¿Quién es? Y Escarlatina contesta: ¡Aquí estamos los tres! The cook would sometimes shout a little madly, "Sing it again!" And the women would sing again: Measles knocks at the door. Smallpox asks, Who's there? And Scarlet Fever replies: All three of us are here!

This just bleeds with irony.

I tried so hard, I farted! Mrs.

I was just thinking about me having children. Or being a grandma!" She giggled. "Think I'll be fat and have gray hair?" "I sure hope so," her father said, laughing himself.

Step, fart. Step, fart. Step, fart.

Dad also has the loudest, stinkiest farts in creation. I don't know how he manages to control them at work, or even if he does, but when he'd get home, he'd let them loose. They'd start as he walked up the stairs.

What's Mr. Dimming's first name?" "Wallace!" We all cracked up at that.

So I did. I strained. I reached. I tried so hard, I farted! Mrs. V cracked up.