Have I ever driven a forklift before? Has The Pope ever read The Bible? The answer is no, but that doesn’t mean I’m not the best man for the job. How do I know I’m the best? Because I bought a trophy that says exactly that and corroborates my claim.
In this consumer society full of paternal neglect, is the Number One Dad FOR SALE? The answer is yes. The title itself is FOR SALE, and the owner of that title, me, is also FOR SALE. Buy six days, get the seventh FREE.
I once met a man in Branson, and I thought to myself, “Who is this guy?” So I went up to him and said, “Is that you, dad?” He laughed and told me he was younger than me, so I said, “So does that make you my grandpa?” Then I tried to sell him some pills that cure dyslexia.
The Waterfall is Closed For Business, because its father just died. I ask you to kindly let it grieve, and in the meantime, would you support the funeral costs by buying a pair of Used Hiking Boots? (They even come included with Leftover Meatloaf inside.)
People jealous of my dad bod would be even more envious to know that I don’t even train to maintain my slovenly appearance. My slob look is all natural. The only thing I train for is Election Day, my Olympics, where I vote so hard I literally save America. You’re welcome.
Agriculture is hard, and trees grow up so fast these days—most of them growing up without a father. That’s why I chose to #Startup a Meme Farm. Now I can press fresh Dankness, and sell it in Juice Format as a Coffee Alternative used in waking up The People.
Today’s society hands out Participation Trophies so nobody feels like a loser. Well, as a father, my dad would have earned a (non) Participation Trophy. Instead of 1st Place, it would have been inscribed, “No Place,” because he was never around and nowhere to be found.