Archive for 2017

The Lit­er­al Op­po­site of “#1 Dad”

Guy #1: Bitch­es are all emo­tion­al, guys use their head. That is why I call emo­tion­al guys “bitch­es.”
Guy #2: Word.
Guy #1: But bitch­es are crazy, they will call the cops on you now. They will slap them­selves in the face and when the cops show up they will point at you.
Guy #2: Fo’ sho’.
Guy #1: That is why I ain’t got no kids. I don’t want a bunch of my seed run­ning around and peo­ple call­ing me a scum­bag be­cause I don’t take care of my kids. Bitch will turn on you for that child sup­port.
Guys #2: I know my girl ain’t gonna be do­ing that be­cause she know I’m on­ly mak­ing min­i­mum wage.

–1 train

He’s Just Not That In­to You

Drunk girl: How much is a Miller Light tall boy?
Beer ven­dor: $3.
Drunk girl: How about $2.50?
Beer ven­dor: $3.
Drunk girl: How about $2.75 and my phone num­ber?

Drunk girl gives beer ven­dor cell phone num­ber.

Beer ven­dor: $3.

–Penn Sta­tion, LIRR

Over­heard by: LC
Head­line by: An­na-Liza

Run­ners-Up:
· “Your Je­di Mind Tricks Don’t Work While Drunk” — An­na Nio
· “ ‘Mom­my, How Did You and Dad­dy Meet?’ ” — Bec­ca
· “But in Syos­set, I’m Beau­ti­ful” — Anas­ta­sia Beaver­hausen

Hon­or­able Men­tions:
· “Los­ing Her Dig­ni­ty for a Miller Light: Price­less” — mel­lama­phone
· “Ah, the Re­flex­ive Prop­er­ty of Beer” — Mikey G
· “In his De­fense, He Ad­ver­tis­es ‘Cold and Frosty’ ” — Mike T
· “Yeah, I Tried that Line with the Laun­dry Ma­chine Yes­ter­day” — ju­man­ji
· “C’­mon! My Num­ber Re­al­ly Is 867‑5309.” — will man­ning

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Wednes­day One-Lin­ers See the World With Fresh Eyes

Lit­tle boy to dad: Does the Stat­ue of Lib­er­ty have a claw?

–Bat­tery Park

Lit­tle boy to moth­er: Will you hur­ry up? You’re slow­er than my aunt Jebe­di­ah in the bath­tub!

–Clark St, Brook­lyn

Four-year-old boy to moth­er: And then you fed me…from your bel­ly but­ton!

–Old Navy Store

Over­heard by: Joy­ful­ly Yours

Lit­tle boy play­ing with friend: Buenos dias, rep­tile!

–As­to­ria Park

Over­heard by: Julie & Zane

Blond six-year-old, look­ing at fa­ther’s New York­er mag­a­zine: What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

–Do­ma Cafe

Sev­en-year-old with Spi­der­man back­pack: Dad, have I lost my youth?

–1 Train

Lit­tle girl with pig­tails, run­ning to sit with fam­i­ly: We’re go­ing to the dark side!

–Sheep Mead­ow, Cen­tral Park