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Dad: Your mom has been feeling kinda old lately. Can you take her out, and show her a good time? Me: You mean get her drunk? Dad: Yeah. Me: Done.

Mom: I don't like birds. They don't have arms. I don't like anything without arms.

Sister (singing like the Black Eyed Peas): Whatcha gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk? Dad (obviously having no idea that it's a song) : I'll tell you what you're going to do with all of it, clean it out! (followed by a long, angry lecture about the various junk my sister had left in the trunk of the car and needed to take out)

Dad: Hey son. Me: Yes? Dad: Wanna know where babies come from Me: No no plea- Dad: The Game