A picture is worth zilch …
They threw one over board and the boat is now a cigarette lighter.
The bartender finally says that the bar is closed. So our man stands up to leave and falls flat on his face. He figures he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up. Once outside he stands up but again falls flat on his face. He crawls home. Reaching the door he tries to stand up, and yet again, falls flat on his face. He crawls through the door and up the stairs. When he reaches his bed he summons the last of his strength and tries one final time to stand. It's no use. He tumbles into bed and is soon sound asleep, only to awaken the next morning to the sound of his wife standing over him shouting. 'So… you've been out drinking again!' 'How did you know?' he asks, his head hung in shame. 'The pub called– you left your damn wheelchair down there again!'
I guess they’re aimed at a younger audience….
Her: Wow! That’s impressive! Him: Thanks. Next up, Capricorns.
An old west dime novel writer is out looking for a good story when he wanders into a saloon. He sees a group of rough rider lookin' scoundrels playing poker and he musters up enough courage to sit down with 'em (thinkin' he might get a story out if he was lucky). "Mind if I play?" The others look up with a scowl that would curdle milk, but one looks at the clock and shakes his head. He points out the time to the others and they gather up their chips and go. "Play alone, we're a-leavin'. Wild Bill's comin' to town." The writer is confused, but smells a story brewing; a strong one at that. He hoofs it up to the bar, passing most other patrons on their way out, and slaps a whole dollar bill on the table, "Barkeep, give me a beer and a story, and you can keep the change." After taking a quick glance at the clock, the bartender shakes his head, pours the beer, and pushes the bill back to the reporter. "The drink is on the house, but I suggest you drink it quick and leave. Wild Bill is coming to town." Without another word the 'tender puts his last glass away and walks right out the swinging doors, leaving the reporter in an empty bar. Now fear in his gut tears at him as he hears the emptiness in that bar. This emptiness seems to seep in as he realizes that he's about to be the last man in this town, alone with only the sound of that ticking clock to keep him company. Still, a story of this caliber must be worth something; so he waits… Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, Bong<CRACK!>- Just as the clock strikes the first chime of twelve, a sound like thunder splitting a mountain is heard outside. The reporter runs to the doors to see what it is. In the distance and closing fast is a tornado coming right for the bar. The reporter hits the ground and watches as the tornado comes up to the bar and stops. The wind settles and there is a giant of a man riding a grizzly bear. He steps off the bear, and instead of hitching it, he punches the great beast right in the face <WHAM!>, knocking it cold on the ground. The reporter is so scared he runs back into the bar and dives behind the counter, sure that this is the last of his days. <KaPLOW!> the giant kicks in the saloon doors, and they turn to splinters that imbed themselves into the walls and break bottles and glasses that they touch. The man walks up to the bar, breaking every floor board with each thundering step. He looks down at the reporter and slams his fist on the bar, cracking it down the middle, "GIMME A DRINK!" The reporter comes up, shakily holding out two bottles of whisky; which the giant snatches up, chews the glass tops off of, and drinks down as fast as the amber liquid can spill from the bottles. He throws both bottles in the air, whips out his six-shooter and fires off a round. The single bullet rips through both bottles showering the reporter with shards that rain down. Regretting his curiosity and repenting of his life, the reporter stands on weakened legs and whimpers out, "W-w-w-would y-you like a-another drink?" The man turns to him, fire in his eyes, then glances at the clock… "Nah, I gotta go. Wild Bill's comin' to town."
Now I wake up 5 minutes earlier every day so that I don’t have to listen to it.
I guess I'm a faux pas.
There's always beef between them.
Nevermind, it's tearable.
A tea toddler
You console it.
A Police Officer was waiting along the side of a highway waiting to catch speeding drivers. There weren’t as many violators this day as usual. The State Police Officer sees an old car puttering along at 22 MPH. He thinks to himself, “This driver is just as dangerous as a speeder!”
So he turns on his lights and pulls the driver over. Approaching the car, he notices that there are five elderly ladies, two in the front seat and three in the back–wide eyed and white as ghosts. The driver, obviously confused, says to him, "Officer, I don't understand, I was doing exactly the speed limit! What seems to be the problem?" "Ma'am," the officer replies, "You weren't speeding, but you should know that driving slower than the speed limit can also be a danger to other drivers." "Slower than the speed limit? No sir, I was doing the speed limit exactly… Twenty-two miles an hour!" the old woman says a bit proudly. The State Police officer, trying to contain a chuckle explains to her that "22" was the route number, not the speed limit. A bit embarrassed, the woman grinned and thanked the officer for pointing out her error. "But before I let you go, Ma'am, I have to ask… is everyone in this car OK? These women seem awfully shaken and they haven’t uttered a single word this whole time," the officer asks with concern. "Oh, they'll be all right in a minute officer. We just got off Route 215."
Comes great response ability.
Because if you sugarcoat the facts, they'll eat them too.
A Rogue will pick the lock. A Monk will just use their Ki.
It was the best dam program I've ever seen.
You have a one-track mind.
A man in an interrogation room says, “I’m not saying a word without my lawyer present!” The cop growls, “You ARE the lawyer!”
The lawyer shrieks, "Exactly! So where’s my present?!"
The chief tells them that since they don't seem to mean any harm, they must pass a test and if they do, he'll let them go free, he'll even point them in the direction of civilization. But if they cannot complete the test, they will be killed and served for dinner. First, he sends each of the men in a different direction and tells them to go into the forest, get ten pieces of the same kind of fruit, and bring it back. It can be any kind of fruit as long as they get ten pieces of the same kind. Man A gets back first with ten apples. The chief tells him that while they wait for the other two, he can do the rest of the test. "It's simple," the chief said, "you just have to stick all ten of the apples up your butt without making a sound." Man A gets one apple in with no sound, but he grunts in pain on the second and thus is killed. Man B arrives next with ten small blueberries. He is told the same thing as Man A and begins the challenge. He is on number nine, doing great and making no sound, when he bursts out laughing and is killed. In Heaven, Man A and Man B stand together in line at the Pearly Gates. "You were doing so well!" Man A said. "Why did you laugh?" Man B started laughing again and responded: "I just couldn't help it… I saw Man C coming back with pineapples." Fun fact: This is the first joke I remember ever being told. My cousin told me and his younger siblings it, and we laughed for like an hour.
Is sphere itself
The odds were against me. Edit: Thanks so much!! This is my first award!
I don’t do drugs
Luckily I was already up, playing drums.
Extra Karma… I hope.
A man dies and he’s able to be in heaven and in hell for 1 day so he could choose which he likes best.
And heaven was boring as fuck and hell was a 24/7 hookers and blow non stop party. So the next day he goes back to st Peter? And says, "nah.. I'm going to stay in hell" and when he goes back down with the devil it's all torture and Sulphur and fire and brimstone and he goes to the devil and says "what the fuck?? Where are the hookers and blow? The dj and pools?" and the devil responds…. "well, that's the difference between being a tourist and being an immigrant"
The Jewish man starts eyeing the Chinese man suspiciously, a dark expression covering his face. Suddenly, with no warning at all, he stands up, grabs the Chinese man by the neck, smashes his face against the bar and throws him to the floor. The Chinese man, dazed and angry, stands up and confronts the Jewish man. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why would you do that?!” The Jewish man looks him in the eye and says “That was for bombing Pearl Harbor.” The Chinese man froze. “For bombing Pe- but that was the Japanese!! I am Chinese!” “Japanese, Chinese, Korean, you’re all the same to me”, said the Jewish man. Dumbfounded, the Chinese man sits at the bar and orders another beer. He keeps eyeing the Jewish man, a dark expression on his face. Suddenly, he grabs his beer mug and smashes it against the Jewish man’s face, then proceeds to punch him and kick him until the Jewish man isn’t moving any more. He sits back at the bar. After a couple of minutes, the Jewish man struggles to his feet, stumbles to the bar, and confronts the Chinese man. “What the fuck was that about?” The Chinese man sips his beer, and without looking at the Jewish man, he says “That was for sinking the Titanic.” Outraged, the Jewish man goes red. “Sinking the Ti- that was an iceberg!!” The Chinese man shrugs. “They’re all the same to me, icebergs, Goldbergs, Rosenbergs, Silberbergs…”
The former is a latter and the latter is a former.
I just read in the news that tons of Americans are sending their old clothes to poor people in Africa.
Seems like a waste of time in my opinion. I've never seen an African with a 52 inch waist.
"Username checks out"
but I’m more of a ceiling fan
-I want 20 black bras size 85 D. The Jew: -Of course, but black is rare color, so their price is 15$ for each one. -It does not matter, said the Chinese, -I'll pay. He took the purchase and left. After a week the Chinese returns again. -I want 30 black bras size 85 D. -Yes, of course, said the Jew, -but it's so hard to get them, so now their price jumped to $25 for each one. -It does not matter, I'll pay. said the Chinese, paying for the purchase. A week later, he comes again to the Store Jew. -I want 100 black bras size 85 D! -Yes, but their price has jumped a lot, the Jew said, -it is extremely difficult to deliver them; Now they are 55$ for each one, -It does not matter, I'll pay, replied the Chinese. As the jew packed the order, angry with curiosity, he asked: -Excuse me, but can you tell me what do you do with so many bras? -I cut them in the middle and sell as Jewish caps for 200$.