Implausible Deniability

Greg: I deny everything!
Me: Everything?
Greg: No!
Me: Hm, even that?
Greg: No!

Fire or Ice?

Greg: It's the apocalypse, with a vampire. Can it get any worse?
Me: There could be a zombie rising out of the back seat.
Greg: There probably is.

Comedy Tonight

Me: Is there a game on? Why are the stadium lights on? Oh, it says
volleyball.
Greg: Tonight, volleyball. Tomorrow...
Me: Tragedy tomorrow, volleyball tonight.
Greg: I was going to say curling, but that's more or less the same as
tragedy.

Overheard in Port Lavaca

Teenage mother: I didn't drink at all! I had beer at the reception,
and a couple of Jagers, and that shot you gave me, and that's it!

Not Helping

Me: They really have the worst dog toy ever over there. It's the gift that if I gave it to Mike, would once and for all make Jen forbid him to talk to me.
Greg: Lemme see it.
Me, holding horrible dog toy: Look at it. It's like a mess, with a handle.
Greg: It's fantastic. You should get it for Mike.

What was that?

Me: That would be the sound of Greg's heart breaking.
Greg: It'd be kind of a clanging squeak.

Logic

Greg: There we have it: proof that John Tesh is a commie.

Pok e joe's

Me: I don't know what's in these pickles.
Greg: Crack, apparently.

If a theorem falls in the forest...

Me: It's so mathematician of you to be allergic to something outdoorsy
and not know until you're 35 years old.
Greg: I've had poison ivy before! It wasn't this bad!
Me: Actually, it'd be more mathematician of you to never find out.
Because why would a mathematician go into the woods? To get to the
other side?
Greg: It's the only possible reason. And he wouldn't see the forest
for the trees.
Me: Terrible. But there's got to be a joke in there somewhere: why did
the mathematician go into the woods?
Greg: To get to the other side!
Me: That doesn't make any sense!
Greg: That's what makes it a mathematician joke!

Damn Ivies

Me: Okay, I'll say it: Cornell crazy.
Greg: Why?
Me: Beekeeping.
Greg: One word says it all.

Funereal Fun with Mike

(This is from my dad's funeral, June 2007; I just found it on a list of dad stories I keep meaning to write down. Hey: at least I have this, right?)

Mike: We have the photomosaic Christ, the needlepoint Last Supper, where's the decoupage pieta?

Honesty

Greg: I'm speaking from my heart here. My heart says "pickle."