Screw lights. What we need are loudspeakers, as the autonomous cars drive by, they yell “EXTERMINATE, EXTERMINATE!!!”

They never took a doggie bag home and they never touched Golem Jesus’s meal.

As a fellow stay-at-home dad, can we please get some motherfucking changing stations in men’s public restrooms? For fuck’s sake.

I once joked with a friend that I should write a cookbook called ROAST THAT FUCKER!, which boils down to "You basically cannot fuck up any vegetable if you large dice it, put it on a sprayed cookie sheet, cover it in spices, and stick it in an oven at 350."

Parents Night is dreadful. Last year I was singled out by a teacher in a room full of judgmental parents because my 3rd grader, for the "art show", drew a picture of a chicken giving a horse a hand-job. Seriously. I have the photo prove it if you provide me with an e-mail to send it. When I got home, I feared…