(I’m sitting on the train when this old man with a long white beard comes on and sits close by. He’s quite the character: leopard print top hat, huge round sunglasses, a floor-length robe, what looks like a turquoise net with ornaments on it draped over his shoulders, a carved walking stick, and a twisted horn hanging from his belt. His walker is almost as decked out as he is. A few stops later, a college-age girl gets on the train and sits a few seats away from the old man. She doesn’t notice him at first, but as soon as she does, she excitedly switches seats to sit across from him.)

Girl: “I want to sit across from you so I can look at you!”

Old Man: *without missing a beat* “I’m 736 months old!”

Girl: *as if he just imparted invaluable wisdom* “Wow! I don’t know how old I am because I don’t know how many lives I’ve had, but—” *she gets really solemn and leans forward* “—this definitely isn’t my first.”

Old Man: “Well, that’s just crazy.”

(He immediately stood up and moved to another part of the train, leaving the girl looking like she’d just been spurned by a beloved mentor.)

(I am a ballroom dancer and my partner and I are planning on going to Montreal to compete in about two weeks. We’re planning on spending the weekend in the city, which I’m really excited about. We’re in his car with some friends.)

Dance Partner: “We probably can’t practice tomorrow. I’m going skydiving.”

Friend: “You’re going skydiving! That’s SO COOL!”

Dance Partner: “Yeah, do you think it’s dangerous?”

Me: “Only a little; they’re professionals. But don’t go killing yourself before Montreal. After Montreal I don’t care, go kill yourself, but wait until after we get back.” *the car goes silent and I realize how this sounded* “Oh s***! That’s definitely not what I meant. DO NOT KILL YOURSELF, before or after Montreal, but especially not before Montreal. That was awful. Once again, DO NOT KILL YOURSELF!”

(A friend recently told me about having Mormons come to his door and the way he greeted them.)

Friend: *opens door and stares at them*

First Guy: “Hi, we’ve come to—”

Friend: *interrupts* “Have you heard the wonderful and glorious news of Cthulhu? I’d like to share his madness with you.”

Both: “Uhh?”

Friend: “Have a nice day, and hail Cthulhu!” *shuts door*

(I am six. My mother has always had a lewd sense of humour which I seem to have developed. She is buying various items including men’s underwear for my dad.)

Mother: *to me* “You should ask the cashier lady if these underwear come with the lump in the front.”

Me: *having no clue, we eventually reach the checkout desk* “Do those underwear come with the lump in the front?”

(My mother turned beet red and apologized for me. She couldn’t get out of the store fast enough.)

(My friend and I are discussing how people give thanks before meals, when he says:)

Friend: “How do you think atheists give thanks before meals?”

Me: “In Hawking’s name, amen!”