#grandpa

"Grandpa always used to make me ride in the bed of his pickup truck, so he could keep up his conversations with the 100-pound sack of manure he kept buckled up in the passenger seat. Grandpa said all they ever talked about was grass, but I know Grandpa used to do a little flirting, too."

"My grandpa died yesterday. I ought to know, because I shot him. So come, join me in the fight against patricide by killing your father’s father."

"I keep my motivational book collection in the fridge. Hey, Who Moved My Cheese?! Did somebody let grandpa out of his cage again?"

"I love how babies look like old people. I saw a baby the other day that looked exactly like my grandpa, only taller."

"For the funeral I needed a plus one, so I rented a hooker. And then I rented a movie. Rest in peace Grandpa, or whoever you were."

"Grandpa often tells me I dance like my legs are engulfed in flames. I just go out there and put the fire of desire in women’s hearts."

"I watched the leaves change colors, and I thought, “People do that too. Their hair changes color as they age.” I remember that as my grandpa got older, his hair went from green to yellow to red, like a traffic light, only with slightly less honking."

"The first door in the hall leads to youth, the second door leads to middle age, and the third door leads to the bathroom. But knock first, because I think grandpa’s in there."

"I had to hand it to him, leaving the empty glove lying on the bed was an apt metaphor for love. Two things I can say about my grandpa are that he is wise, and his left hand is probably cold."