Long, long ago in a village far, far away where the local inhabitants wore nothing but yoga pants and prank called their former algebra teacher who once said “math is necessary,” there was a writer named Ericka who punished her husband for saying that she “maybe shouldn’t drive on the sidewalks” and “probably should wear clothes to church” by posting all the other horrifying things he said on the Internet.
You’d think said husband would “maybe stop talking, please, seriously, Matt, stop talking, and could you hold this cat while I get more Cheetos? Don’t worry about where I got the glitter! Mr. Cattypants likes it!!” but alas, he has not.
- “I chiseled a baby spoon out of wood when I was six months old.”
- “I am rich in puppy.”
- “I should suspend your vent privileges.”
- “I’m about to get wild, and I’m all like, ‘Matt, stop. That’s too fucking wild.'”
- “I just hurt my neck with my exaggerated head and eye movements.”
- “I choose grammar over everyone.”
- “After this, can you remind me to eat an egg roll and check the mail?”
- “You have a wonderful hairline.”
- “I’d risk my life to build a treehouse.”
- “You know what’s funny? You’re not a police officer, and you don’t know the definition of ‘cop sexy.'”
- “A Lincoln Town Car limousine? Those were simpler times.”
- “Dennis Quaid is still wide smiling his way around America.”
- “Me: What’s the name of the Ryan Phillippe movie you like? Matt: Which one?”
- “I’m sorry, it’s just that I find water’s affinity for itself in glasses interesting.”
- (His take on papaya) “Nasty. Disgusting. I’m going to put it down your shirt.”
Maybe one day he’ll grow up and be a mature adult like me.
Oh God. Our poor child.