Wednesday, April 18th 2018
Standing in line for movie tickets in peaceful silence, out of nowhere my son pipes up: “YOU SHOULD GET THE SENIOR DISCOUNT!”
I turn to him, incredulous; “You should see what your face looks like right before you die!” I tell him, “Want me to get a mirror?” as he runs away.
My kids seem to tell “Yo Mamma” jokes indiscriminately -often to each other- without regard for the fact they share the same mother, or that I’m standing RIGHT HERE.
Later I walk around a little step while he jumps up on it. “You didn’t take the easy way,” he says, “I just took the non-fat people way.”
“I have the right to make fat jokes about you because I’ve seen your belly jiggle!” he says running away.
Funny how he runs away after almost every delivery.
* * * * * *
Here is more of their material:
Yo Mamma’s so fat that when she takes the elevator she can only go down.
My Mamma’s so stupid she thought a quarterback was a refund.
My Mamma’s so fat, when she went bungee jumping they reported a meteor.
My Mamma’s so hairy, her knuckles have sideburns.
My Mamma’s so fat, she beat Hussein Bolt by rolling over… once.
My Mamma’s so fat, she drinks coffee from a trough.
More to come I’m sure.