(My dad, the night before I'm set to leave for a week-long field trip with my school): When you're gone, I'm going to dance with the cat. And we're going to dance to Lady Gaga, because I was born this way.
(My mom walks in to my room as I'm pulling my pants up from masturbating.) Mom: What were you doing. Me: Uh... Nothing Mom: OK, just a tip, next time, do "nothing" in the bathroom.
(Me eating a chocolate orange on sofa, dad who is on a diet next to me) Dad: I hope you die in pain.
Me: Talked to that guy. Mom: Did you tell him you were available and easy? Me: Um, what? Mom: Well, it's been real. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow!
(After fetching Gramma's mail): Me: You got another funeral home ad. Gramma: Again? I got 3 yesterday! Soon they'll be sending a loaded rifle and asking me to f***ing shoot myself!
(Me playing Plants vs. Zombies) Grandma: Hey! That is a funny game! Those grey guys look like your grandfather. He likes fighting with my plants too. But at least he doesn't eat them. Well, not always.
Me: I'm going to discipline my kids better when I have them. I'm going to lock them in a closet. Mom: Oh... That's what I did with you...
(My friend and I were visiting her granddad (who I haven't met before). Other guests include my friend's aunt and her two year old daughter. We are just discussing about how long kids should keep their pacifiers.) Granddad: In a few years she'll suck on something completely different. Everybody: GRANDDAD! Granddad: What, I meant her thumb!
12-Year-Old Brother: (Playing Mario Kart Wii with me) Come in behind me and I'll shoot you a mushshroom. Dad: Anal prostitution for drugs is not allowed in this household!
(After watching an ad against drunk driving) Dad: Why drink and drive when you can smoke and fly! Mom: Yeah, that's a good lesson to teach your sixteen year old daughter. Dad: It's true! Don't make me throw my coffee mug at you.
Dad: Don't go into the dark, the Boogie Man will get you. Me: You're the Boogie man, and the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny Dad: Don't talk about my sex life.
(This was a few years back while we were watching David Tennant on "Friday Night with Jonathan Ross") Dad: If he can speak English properly, why dosen't he always do it? Me: ... What? He is speaking proper English. Dad: No he's not, he's got an accent. You can't speak proper English with an accent.
*phone rings* Me: *answers* This is road kill cafe you kill we grill it, this is Sam speaking! Mom's boyfriend: *hangs up* Mom: Why'd you do that!? Me: Don't worry he'll be by to pick up his fried raccoon in an hour.
Mum: Are you a lesbian? That would be gross. Me: Didnt you tell me you dated a lesbian for six months? Mum: Yes, but we never went beyond kissing. She wanted to stay virgin until married.
Me (7 Year old): Mom, what if aliens landed in the back yard, ate all our food, and left? Dad: Sounds like our relatives. Mom: (Glares at dad)
(Somehow my mom and I ended up talking about penises, I was trying to change subject.) Me: Anyways how was- Mom: Just so you know you're not allowed to marry a man with a small penis. Me: ...what? Mom: Yeah. I don't want any small penises messing up our family genes. Me: What?! Mom: What? Do you really want me to tell you about your father's? Me: No! No, No. No. Mom: Cause he was huuuuge! Me: Oh my God, mom!
