When you order a Triple Espresso, you’re tripling down on productivity. Last time, I ordered a double, I made a decision, only triple espressos moving forward, because my wife circumcises my happiness enough already.
If your mom rejected your connection request on LinkedIn. You’d live to score laughs from strangers for a living to.
My mom is from Kentucky, but not the part, where finger food is anything that tastes like your cousin’s panties.
Mom told me once, “Son, Kentucky is known for horses and pretty woman.” I said, “Keep your Sundress on mom. Before you tell me Dad is hung like Seabiscuit. And the reason you converted to Judaism is because Dad’s Hebrew Hammer pounded you into submission. Because the honor of marrying into Dad’s putzy DNA wasn’t enough for you to kick Jesus out of your heart permanently either.”
“I’m the mother of your 3 kids” is a copout, whenever I call my wife a bitch again. When you become a mother, it doesn’t prevent you from becoming an unhuggable cunt like my mother in law again. Just like becoming a Grandpa, doesn’t ensure you’ll turn into fucking Santa Klaus over night either. For example, for Christmas one year when my daughter was 2, my father in law got her a toy chest with no toys in it. My daughter acted confused, not knowing if this was a sick, practical joke or not. So I ease her concern and say, “Don’t sweat it Matilda. When we get home to New York, will fill it up with your 8000 Hanukkah gifts. And if I’m in a more forgiving, generous mood, I’ll throw in some Jesus Apostle trading cards to prove the Bible Part 2 matters plenty to 2 billion large to.
Mom just texted me a black and white picture from Easter with her sister yet it got weird when she pushed for my daughter to see it. Because this is coming from a woman who went out of her way to shame my gentile wife during my daughter’s conversion mikveh ceremony, who told the Rabbi there, “I’m the daughter of the biblical Sara, unlike my bitch daughter in law, who was never that into Jesus in the 1st place either.” I text back my mother and say “I was born on Easter as you know mom. Plus, my friends called me Jesus when my hair was thick and long in college. Plus, I’ve been called a delusional madman for criticizing fake news heroes like Obama Be Good, so I share that connection with Jesus to. Last, Matilda drew this in the sand yesterday. It said, “I Love Jews.” My mother never acknowledged her granddaughter’s artwork in the sand. But that’s what happens when you start worshipping fascist Democrats over you know who.