A nun gets into a cab and notices that the driver can’t stop staring at her…….
So she asks him why is he staring and he answers, "I have a question I need to ask you but I don't want to offend you."
The nun replies, "My dear son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you have had a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."
The cab driver hesitates for a moment and then says, "Well it's like this; I've always had a fantasy to have a nun perform oral sex on me."
The nun replies, "Okay well, let's see what we can do about that, shall we. There are two conditions though – firstly you have to be single and secondly you must be Catholic."
The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, yes! I am single and I'm Catholic too!"
The nun then says, "Okay then, pull into the next alley."
The cab driver does so and the nun duly goes ahead and fulfills his fantasy. They get back on the road and start driving again, but the cab driver soon starts to cry.
The nun sees this and asks him, "My dear child, pray tell, why are you crying?"
The cab driver says, "You must forgive me sister, but I have sinned. I lied to you – I must confess that I'm married and I'm also Jewish."
The nun laughs and says, "That's OK, my name is Kevin and I'm on my way to a Halloween party."
Me: Well I don't know about that, but I'll give Bohemian Rhapsody a try.
I replied, "Probably failing my driving test."
"Whom, sweetheart?" "Mike the mailman." "Mike the mailman? But he could be your father!" "But mom, age is just a number." "Sweetheart, I don't think you understood."
And that's a stereo type.
The Eyeful Tower. …ok, that one was bad. Paris-itic, even.
Jesus was worried about the drug epidemic plaguing the world. In an effort to solve this dilemma, he decided that a few apostles would return to earth and fetch a sample of each drug, so they could understand what these substances did…
Two days after the operation is implemented, the disciples begin to return. Jesus, waiting at the door, lets in each disciple. "Who is it?" "It's Mark." Jesus opens the door. "What did you bring Mark?" "Marijuana from Colombia." "Very well son, come in." Another soft knock is heard. "Who is it?" "It's Matthew." Jesus opens the door. "What did you bring Matthew?" "Cocaine from Bolivia." "Very well son, come in." At the next knock Jesus asks, "Who is it?" "It's John." Jesus opens the door. "What did you bring John?" "Crack from New York." "Very well son, come in." Someone starts pounding on the door. "Who is it?" "It's Judas!" Jesus opens the door. "What did you bring Judas?" "FREEZE! THIS IS THE DEA!"
An archaeologist is visiting a small town in Nevada. He’s just ambling around, enjoying the play of the autumn light on the terracotta and adobe-colored buildings. He rounds a corner and is surprised to see the most, bar none, stunningly beautiful alley he’s ever come across…
It may sound like he's a bit nerdy, but we all have our things we love and he's a lover of old streets. The ground of the alley is a light orange in hue, with a soft almost nutty sheen and texture. His feet feel refreshed! The street has gorgeous slopes and embankments, like an alleyway out of Florence in the 1500s, but made out of clay stones. He sees two gentlemen working on fixing a small crack in the street, the only blemish for blocks. One of them is pounding down the clay with a wide-head sledgehammer, thwap thwap! The other is on his knees with a compass and a pick and a broom, adjusting the grade of the street material. He interrupts them to say, "Excuse me gentlemen! I hate to be a bother, but I just want to applaud your hard work on this alleyway. It's rare a city takes such good care with its streets and this one is one of the best." The man with the sledge stops and says, "Well, we appreciate that sir. You know your streets, it seems! Would it surprise you to know that the composition of this street is not adobe? It's mulched with our native nut trees, the cashew nut. That's what gives it its softness. When it rains, the petrichor has a slight sweetness due to the cashew, and the town smells fantastic. I'm just hammering it down before it gets too cold." "Well, I'll be!" cried the archaeologist. "And what's that fellow up to?" pointing to the man on his knees. "Oh him! He's in charge of checking the grade of the clay. If it's too rough, he picks and sweeps it. Backbreaking work. We hire four of them, one for each season. And since autumn just arrived, he's got a few months yet. So you see…" And here the man paused… "So you see…my hammered alley is really 'cashews clay'. And he is the gradist." . . "The gradist…of fall time."
To talk about hispanic attacks.
Because they are not when wolves
The train driver spots them and starts hooting but they ignore it. He applies brakes so hard and the train stops just a few yards away from the couple. Driver jumps from the engine and walks to the boy who just finished and is standing up and zipping up his pants. The driver shouts out to the boy "Do u realize that if I had not seen u, this would have been ur last f…!!! Boy -'Listen dude, you were coming, She was coming and I was coming, then I realised only You have Brakes.
Because he had a ton of sick beets.
He loves Tibet.
…would they have to change their name to Knockers?
A metalhead \M/
But all my friends are at least 30.
Any tips for burying him?
The lettuce came in ahead, the egg got beat and the faucet is still running.
Ask them to pronounce "unionized."
I said, “I don’t see myself doing that.”
I think they nailed it.
He misses you
So I got up and looked with him.
My brother took going to jail really badly. He refused to eat, spat and swore at anyone who came near him, and smeared the walls with his own feces.
After that, we never played Monopoly with him again.
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You see one, you've seen a mall.
For hispanic attacks.