Period, the end.
One requires tweetment while the other you'll need oinkment.
Idk how this came to me the other day but I was thinking, if someone has a hard time remembering the difference between type 1 and type 2 diabetes, they can say this:
Type 1 is diabeetus of the fetus
Type 2 is diabeetus cause you eatus
...right in front of a house where there’s a huge party going on. He walks in and notices that the party is somewhat divided. There’s a clear distinction between the people waiting for the bathroom and the people queued up for drinks, etc.
Considering the urgency of the bathroom queue, he walks over to the drinks table and asks everyone there if they wouldn’t mind helping him push his car to get it started. They agree but even with the full might of several people, the car doesn’t budge. He thanks them for trying and they all head back inside.
A little while later, the doorbell rings. The man sees the host open the door to the largest pizza guy he’s ever seen. The behemoth is holding 15 pizzas with one hand, a pallet of buffalo wings with the other, with a keg strapped to each shoulder. The man jumps up and asks the pizza guy for his help pushing the car. He agrees and they head to the street.
With barely one touch of a pinky on one hand, the car lurches forward and starts right up. The man drives off, waving behind him and yelling a quick, “Thank you.”
As he catches sight of the party fading into the distance, he says to himself...
“Thank goodness for the delivery because that punch line sure is weak.”
Dad: what subject did you get the distinction in?
Daughter: in Not-For-Profit Marketing
Dad: If it was not for Profit Marketing, what was it for?
Edit: fixed the formatting.
The odds were against me.
Me: knock knock.
Her: who's there?
Me: Mary.
Her: Mary who?
Me: Marry Me.
Edit: she did say yes
Grimes: Do you ever notice that X Æ A-12 doesn’t have that distinct baby smell? Elon: Yea, he’s got a certain musk to him.
Well he didn't know what was wrong with him, but this dude obviously had a diss-ability.
and today, we were playing a game of "Yes, Let's!" If you're unfamiliar, that's a group improv exercise where one person says "Let's do a thing!" and everybody else replies "Yes, let's!" and then proceeds to act out the scene. After acting out said scene, somebody freezes, then everybody freezes, and then someone else starts one.
In this case, it was "Let's go to a Michael Jackson tribute concert!" Now, we'd just been coached to assume distinct roles in an attempt to construct a coherent narrative, and so I, as an awkward, scrawny, blond white man, slipped effortlessly into the role of a shitty Michael Jackson impersonator. And I must have been doing something right, because the rest of the group quickly formed a scene as the audience, security, and crew, and stupidity ensued as I sucked at being Michael Jackson for all I was worth.
A few people started heckling, and then one of the audience members barged past security and mimed punching me in the head, whereupon I dramatically spun and dropped to the floor with a resounding THUD (knowing how to fall is a useful skill). The reaction was about a third laughs, a third stage-gasps, and a third just confusion. But I did get a few compliments after the exercise on my impression and my theatrics.
So I'd say that was a pretty big hit.
It's a distinction without a difference
My dad told me this spooky Halloween story when I was young, I remembered it today and thought I would share it:
On one spooky Halloween night, a man decided to travel to the graveyard all by himself, armed with only a flashlight, and a thirst for adventure. He scoured the graveyard in search of ghosts, but after a long time searching, was disappointed that he couldn’t find one.
Just when he was beginning to get disheartened, he heard this awful sound from behind! The sound was deep, scratchy, and bellowing. It was the distinct sound of a coffin! The man was terrified. Naturally, he took off running! But No matter how far or fast he ran, he couldn’t escape the coffin. Everywhere he went, the coffin roared, deep, scratchy, and bellowing.
Just when he could run no more, he found himself trapped. The coffin closed in on him, getting louder and louder as it approached.
So what did he do?
He did what any man would do in this situation! He pulled out his Vick’s 44d cough syrup and stopped that awful coffin!
She said "a distinct portion or section of land."
Our toddler is learning about opposites, but some concepts are proving trickier than others.
My wife: "I just don't understand why he can't tell the difference between a fork and a spoon."
Me: "it's a tricky distinction. Just give him some tine."
Wife: Will you stop farting! You are assaulting that chair!
Me: You could say I'm ass-saulting it!
Wife: (combing son's hair) If I comb it this way, it looks like Hitler. Which way did Hitler's hair part?
Me: Probably to the Reich.
Distinctive groans and death glares followed both.
