When I was eating out your mom, I wrote the script for Escape to Witch Mountain.

I took your mom out to eat at Arby’s and as we walked inside, a group of Hispanic men held out their plates under her vagina at the sight of roast beef.

Your mom used to be on Messenger, until Microsoft forced her to appear offline for violating webcam dimensions.

Your mom sat down on a gay man, and when she stood up he was still gay.

A local rock band needed a new drummer. So, they had your mom go face down on the ground with her giant hairy ass facing the sky, and they tested out drummers.

Your mom sat on a rose, and when she stood up there was fertilizer.

I gave your mom a gentle push, then went and washed my finger.

I took a shit that looked just like the Virgin Mary. Your mom was there and I sold it to her for a million dollars.

I was running on the treadmill when your mom tackled me, grabbing me inappropriately. I called Animal Control so it all worked out.

Your dad asked me to pass the gravy, so I told your mom to crawl over to him.

Your mom drinks gravy like coffee.

When they filmed the movie We Bought a Zoo, they didn’t know your mom was included, too.