The bloke often tells me that my jokes are terrible.
Obviously, I am hilarious, so he is wrong. He needs a sense of humour transplant or something. Or does he?
Whilst pottering around looking at one of the many Yankee Candle displays in town, we were mocking the names and smells of some of the offerings. Turns out White Snow actually smells like mens urinals, I am informed.
Me: What do you think Angels Wings smell like?
Bloke: Dunno. Depends on how longs he’s been down here.
… and my jokes are bad? Hypocrisy! This did get a chuckle out the shop assistant who’d been listening to us mocking the goods in her shop.
Personally, I thought ‘I make the meanest omelette in town. I only use one egg’ was incredibly witty. When a pea escaped my plate, and I informed everyone that ‘I just peed all over the table’, I just about gave myself a hernia laughing at myself.
I think he’s just jealous that my ‘bad dad’ jokes are better than his.