I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

No doubt. But also, why is anyone with someone who watches Joe Rogan?

I get that it’s a onesie, but give me fifteen years at least before I’ll need the T-shirt.

Which one is Leopold? And which one is Loeb?

The cost in diapers and ketchup alone makes it unfeasible.

What the hell. Use it. Use. It.

Many of you will pick up on the reference.

The sad part? Once upon a time, I would have tried dating her. And once upon a time, she may have joined me for dinner. And once upon a time, she would have opened her mouth, and it would have taken me years to trust my judgment again. What? No, I’m not married. Why do you ask?

Another Saturday night.

Absolute Wonder Woman by Frank Quitely.

Yes, you behind the bike stands! (You can't have any pudding!)

Learning new skills.

Ahem. That’s, “Big Foot and I . . .”

Where’s that breeze coming from? That insane geezer over there wagging his dog.

Thank you, Mr. Starlin, for this awesome childhood memory.

My recently deceased dad ate here in 1951. The next generation has arrived in 2025.

Um, but he was saluting YOU, dipstick.

Hard pass.

It’s like that moment in Fatal Attraction when the shit hits the fan — and, yes, neither character in Fatal Attraction is likeable too.

. . . and Verle is with me until I escort him to the cemetery on June 7.

I’ve been working night shifts for the greater portion of my adult life, socially acceptable or not. It’s not for everyone, and really — more people joining would kill the benefits.