You know, as days pass into week, weeks into months, months into years, etc... the culture changes and transforms. Sometimes it may catch you quite by surprise.
My roommates think our house is haunted. But I've been here for 235 years and haven't noticed anything strange.
I have come to notice a new art form sweeping through our society. Perhaps you have noticed it as well.
A blind man walked into a bar. Then a table, then a chair.
It didn't happen overnight. It was one here, one there... then it was like 2 a day, 3 a day and so on.
When your girlfriend comes home in a white suit, smelling like honey, you know she's a keeper.
Now, if you have at least 100 friends on social media, you have at least one friend that likes to share their art. The art of the "dad jokes".
I always keep my guitar in my car. It's good for traffic jams.
Dad jokes aren't known to be hilarious. More often than not they may be "groaners".
Sad news: my obese parrot died today.
But it's a huge weight off my shoulders
But now, we must come to realize that "dad jokes" have become an art form. That means they are now protected by law and the "artists" are (I'm certain) a protected class.
My son and I had an argument about which vowel was most important.
But if you were lucky, your dad didn't need "dad jokes" to be funny. My dad was like that. My dad told legitimately funny jokes.
People are usually shocked when they find out I'm not a very good electrician.
Unfortunately all the jokes I can remember that my dad told me were "blue" and thus can't be printed here.
If you need a job, try sending a resume to Search and Rescue. They're always looking for people.
I guess you could say that I am like the fisherman. I didn't write this for the halibut. I did it on porpoise.
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