Excuse me Mr. Peterson?
Yes, that’s me.
The airline has selected your seat randomly for a free upgrade to First Class.
No, but can you fasten your seat belt please?
Oh, yes, sure. Turbulence?
Husband: Where have you been?
Husband: Why didn’t you answer your phone?
Wife: I didn’t hear it.
Husband: I can read you like a book.
Wife: You need to get your eyes tested.
Husband: Don’t be a smart arse!
Wife: I’ll make you an appointment.
Wife: You can’t put me down.
Frank: Her eyes are like bright blue emeralds!
Matt: Emeralds are green.
Frank: …and when she smiles, she lights up the room.
Matt: No need for a lightbulb then?
Frank: Matt, I’m serious. I think this is the one.
Matt: You said the exact same thing about the last girl.
Frank: She’s a one in a million.
Matt: Well, the population of the world is seven billion. That means that if she is one in a million, she’s actually one in seven thousand.
Frank: Shut up Matt.
Oh Sophie! I’m loving this.
Yeah, we’ve got the whole beach to ourselves!
We made the right decision.
Sure it’s a bit cold here in Scotland, but we’ve finally got some alone time.
Who needs Croatia or Greece. The packed beaches, the tourists.
Yeah, too right. Oh, look Greg, what’s this? It’s a message in a bottle!
Wow Soph! What does it say?
It says, “Hands up, this is a heist. Please send your valuables to 787 Maderson Hill Road, East London SE763C or we’ll blow your brains out. If either of you so much as flinch there will be hell.”
We better do what they say.
Paddy, what are you doing? The police are on their way. You’re making a scene. Come on, let’s go home okay? The builders need to get back on the job.
Mum always told me, never walk outside of a ladder.
But Paddy, you’ve got it the wrong way round mate.
Yeah, you should never walk under a ladder.
Are you sure?
Oh, well that’s a relief.
[Paddy steps out from under the ladder and is hit on the head by a falling hammer.]
Man: You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
Woman: Yeah I can.
Woman: Eat half the cake.
Man: Fair enough.
Peanut butter and jelly? Nah, I don’t like it.
Really? Maybe it’s just an American thing.
It’s two different textures. The sticky warm peanut butter and the wobbly slimy jelly. Yuck.
What do you mean by jelly?
The powdered stuff. Add water.
I think there’s been a misunderstanding.
(Rob is rolling around on the welcome mat at the front door).
Rob, what are you doing?
I’m just so itchy!
Father: You’ve made your bed, now you’re going to have to lie in it.
Daughter: Why did I have to make it then?
Father: It’s a saying.
Daughter: So next time I shouldn’t make it?
Father: You’ve got yourself into this situation, now you have to deal with it.
Daughter: Right, so it was wrong to make my bed?
Father: Don’t be a smart aleck.
Daughter: I’m not.
Father: You didn’t do your homework because you left it to the last minute, but now it’s eleven at night and you have to go to bed. I’m not letting you off this time.
Daughter: So just checking, I shouldn’t make it next time?
Man 1: I’m heels over head for her!
Man 2: Don’t you mean…
Man 1: No.