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I don’t talk to my dad often while I’m in school, but I was panicking about my immense amount of work and, seeking reassurance, had the following text conversation with him:
me: So I should just be able to work all night and get it done, right?
(a minute later)
me: Well?
Dad: I hope so!
(7 minutes later)
Dad: A hole in the ground with water in it.
me: What??
Dad: A well.

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HI, Gina,
How is the mattress? If it is still hurts, you need to see a Doctor. You need to get used to the new job. If the work load is too much, you can talk to your manager. Does everyone work that long hours? It should be getting better as it goes. The current heavy load may be
cumulated as people are expecting your arriver. The two years working experience is very important to your career. I will talk to you this weekend. Julie got a new god last night, 6 weeks old. it pees everywhere.
Hanging there

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My eight-year-old cousin was playing Pokemon recently, and he was trying to figure out which Pokemon he should pitch against a gym leader that specialized in Bug Pokemon.
I suggested to him that he could use Fire and Flying Pokemon. He didn’t believe me and went to ask my dad.
My dad told him he could use Bug Spray…

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After buying some groceries, my dad and I were unloading them from the car to the refrigerator. For some reason, my dad only pronounced the first syllable of every word.
Dad: Can you pass me the broc?
Me: Sure *hands broccolli*
Dad: Can you pass me the app?
Me: Yeah *hands apples*
Dad: Can you pass me my crack?
Me: WHAT?!
I look at my dad pointing to the Ritz CRACKERS we had bought.

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Dad: Hey, isn’t this yellow watermelon so sweet?
Me: Yea, it’s pretty good.
Dad: You know how I choose it?
Me: You slap the watermelon, right? And pound it?
Mom: Yes, you have to slap the watermelon to see if there is juice.
Dad: NOOOPE. That’s not how you do it.
Me: Then how do you do it?
Dad: YOU POKE THE BUTTHOLE. AND IF THE BUTTHOLE IS HARD, THEN IT IS GOOD. IF THE BUTTHOLE IS SOFT, IT IS NO GOOD.
According to him, 10 out of 10 times it has worked.

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When my parents were filling out my birth certificate, my dad wanted to name me after my godfather (whose first name is Jason). However my dad forgot how to spell Jason. So instead of my middle name being Jason, Jayson, Jaison, Jasen, or any variation that sounded like Jason, my name is now Kevin ‘Jessen’ Ho.

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Today is my 25th birthday, so my dad called.
Dad, “Happy birthday! You know, 25 years is the center of the normal curve. Your health will now start declining.”
Thanks, Dad.

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My dad is pretty adept at using his cell phone, but rarely texts. My mom can barely make a phone call on one. My dad texted me this on my last birthday:
hapy birfday
Ten seconds later, to my surprise, I got a text from my mom. I opened it and read this:
hapy birfday

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My husband, his family, and I were out eating lunch. The waitress asked my father-in-law what he wanted, so he replied in his thick Filipino accent, “Ahh I’ll hab dee isteak isandweets (steak sandwich).”
The waitress then asked, “How would you like your steak sir?”
He confidently replied, “Ah, just cut it up.” (insert chopping hand motion)

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I’m getting married and my dad insists on helping wherever he can. As I’m working on wedding stuff one day, my dad walks in and hands me a sheet of paper.
Dad: Here.
Me: ??
Dad: This is how you need to take pictures. (He drew a layout of how we should stand to take our formal wedding pictures.)
Dad: You only need 8 or 10 pictures. Not to many. Cost too much.
