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Why did the strict teacher go to therapy? To learn how to be more 'class'ic!
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Why did the pencil break up with the ruler? It found the ruler too strict and couldn't draw any 'lines' with it!
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Why did the strict chef break up with the spice rack? It had too much 'thyme' on its hands!
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Why did the strict computer go to therapy? It had too many 'attachment' issues.
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Why did the strict teacher become a chef? Because they know how to handle a 'knead'y situation in the kitchen!
Homework or Humor?
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My parents are so strict about education that they've turned standup comedy into a homework assignment. They review my jokes like they're grading a paper. Setup: B+, Punchline: C-, Delivery: Needs Improvement. I'm just waiting for the day they ask for my comedy bibliography.
Standup or Boot Camp?
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I told my parents I was doing standup comedy, not attending boot camp. But the way they inspect my jokes and issue commands, you'd think I was on a military mission to make people snort through their noses. At this rate, I might have to start my set with, Sir, yes, sir!
When 'Yes, and...' Turns into 'No, because...'
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In improv, they say, Yes, and... but my parents' version is more like No, because I said so. I tried using that at an improv class, and the instructor gave me detention. Who knew strict parenting techniques wouldn't fly in the world of make-believe?
Strict Parents, Struggling Standup
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You know you have strict parents when they give you a curfew even when you're performing standup comedy. I'm up here trying to make people laugh, and my mom's in the back signaling me to wrap it up like I'm past my bedtime. It's like doing comedy under parental house arrest!
Parental Micromanagement
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My parents are so strict; they micromanage everything, even my comedy career. They're backstage telling me to adjust the microphone height, fix my posture, and reminding me not to use any inappropriate jokes. I feel like I'm doing standup under the watchful eye of the world's least fun drill sergeant.
Grounded for a Bad Set
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The other day, I had a terrible standup set, and my parents grounded me. I was like, Wait, I thought grounding was reserved for breaking the law, not breaking laughter! Now I have to tell jokes in my room to an audience of stuffed animals.
Stricter Than a Comedy Club Bouncer
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My parents are stricter than the bouncers at comedy clubs. At least the bouncers let you in if you have a ticket. My parents make me go through a security check, a pat-down, and a background investigation before I'm allowed to tell a knock-knock joke.
The Strictness Olympics
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If strict parenting were an Olympic sport, my parents would be gold medalists. They compete in events like The Eye Roll Marathon, Judging Your Friends' Parents Vault, and the classic Door Slam Decathlon. It's like living with the strictness dream team.
The Real Laugh Police
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I asked my parents if they ever considered a career in standup. They said, No, we're more suited for the Laugh Police. Apparently, they've been patrolling the house, monitoring laughter levels and issuing citations for insufficient chuckles.
Living with a Dictator
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My parents are so strict; I feel like I'm living under a comedy dictatorship. They don't laugh at my jokes; they critique them like I'm presenting a research paper. I asked my dad for feedback once, and he said, Your punchlines need to be as firm as my rules!
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