As a security guard, my Boss said my job is to watch the office

Because Fuck U, that's why.

As a part of Brexit negotiations, the European Commission has just announced an agreement whereby English will remain the official language of the European Union rather than German, which has been regarded by many as a better choice. As part of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a 5-year phase-in plan that would become known as "Euro-English". In the first year, "s" will replace the soft "c". Sertainly, this will make the sivil servants jump with joy. The hard "c" will be dropped in favour of "k". This should klear up konfusion, and keyboards kan have one less letter. There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f". This will make words like fotograf 20% shorter. In the 3rd year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where more komplikated changes are possible. Governments will enkourage the removal of double letters which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling. Also, al wil agre that the horibl mes of the silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go away. By the 4th yer people wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v". During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil sensibl riten styl. Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech oza. Ze drem of a united urop vil finali kum tru. Und efter ze fifz yer, ve vil al be speking German like zey vunted in ze forst plas.

she always gazes at me in Au.

Because he fucking hates Carols.

Tell him Obama put it in

With only 5 parachutes on board. A Doctor says, “save the women”. A young mother says, “no save the children”. A lawyer says, “Fuck the children”. A priest asks, “do we have time”?

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!"

Rip it! 6 year old son just came up with this. I'm sure he's not the first to think of it, but he came up with it on his own and i got a good chuckle out of it. 🙂

I see a lot of new faces here tonight, which is disappointing.

Juan comes up to the Mexican border on a bicycle. He's got 2 large bags over his shoulders. The guard stops him and says, "What's in the bags?" "Sand," answered Juan. The guard says, "We'll just see about that. Get off the bike." The guard takes the bags and rips them apart; he empties them out and finds nothing in them but sand. He detains Juan overnight and has the sand analysed, only to discover that there is nothing but pure sand in the bags. The guard releases Juan, puts the sand into new bags, hefts them onto the man's shoulders, and lets him cross the border. A week later, the same thing happens. The guard asks, "What have you got?" "Sand," says Juan. The guard does his thorough examination and discovers that the bags contain nothing but sand. He gives the sand back to Juan, and Juan crosses the border on the bicycle. This sequence of events if repeated every day for 3 years. Finally, Juan doesn't show up one day and the guard meets him in a Cantina in Mexico by coincidence. "Hey buddy," says the guard, "I know you are smuggling something. It's driving me crazy. It's all I think about and I can't sleep. Just between you and me, what are you smuggling?" Juan sips his beer and says, "Bicycles."

Very worried, the mother goes to the drugstore and buys a pregnancy kit. The test result shows that the girl is pregnant. Shouting, cursing, crying, the mother says, "Who was the pig that did this to you? I want to know!" The girl picks up the phone and makes a call. Half an hour later, a Ferrari stops in front of their house. A mature and distinguished man with gray hair and impeccably dressed in an Armani suit steps out of the of the Ferrari and enters the house. He sits in the living room with the father, mother, and the girl and tells them: "Good morning, your daughter has informed me of the problem. I can't marry her because of my personal family situation but I'll take charge." "I will pay all costs and provide for your daughter for the rest of her life." "Additionally, if a girl is born, I will bequeath a Ferrari, a beach house, two retail stores, a townhouse, a beachfront villa, and a $2,000,000 bank account. If a boy is born, my legacy will be a couple of factories and a $4,000,000 bank account. If twins, they will receive a factory and $2,000,000 each. However, if there is a miscarriage, what do you suggest I do?" At this point, the father, who had remained silent, places a hand firmly on the man's shoulder and tells him, "You fuck her again."

One day the papa mole sticks his head out of the hole, sniffs the air and says,"Yum! I smell maple syrup!" The mama mole sticks her head out of the hole, sniffs the air and says "Yum! I smell honey!" The baby mole tries to stick his head out of the hole to sniff the air, but can't because the bigger moles are in the way so he says, "Geez, all I smell is MOLASSES!"

Oof

So he thinks 'Great, me and the missus were planning a good time tonight" But he runs into a problem he can't do it at work, because he'll get fired, he can't do it at home because his wife would be there. So after much thinking he comes up with a solution, on his way home he'll pull over, go under his car and pretend he's fixing something but actually having a wank. So on his way home he pulls over, crawls under his car, closes his eyes and imagines his wife. Suddenly he hears a voice, "Excuse me sir, what do you think your doing?" In shock he answers," I'm just fixing my car, the gear box was malfunctioning". The man answers " I think the handbrake is as well, your car went down the hill about five minutes ago"

Half an hour later, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell with the hopes of making a sale. "Good morning madam. You don't know me but I've come to….." "Oh, there's no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Jones cut in. "You have?" the photographer asked. "Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies." "That's exactly what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?" asked a blushing Mrs. Jones. "You just leave everything to me," he replied. "Usually, I try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out." "Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for George and me," stated Mrs. Jones. "Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. However, if we try several different positions, and I shoot from five or six angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." "I certainly hope we can get this over with quickly," gasped Mrs. Jones. "Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I would love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure." "Don't I know!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus in the downtown area," he proudly declared. "Oh my word!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well, considering the fact that their mother was so difficult to work with," he said, handing Mrs. Jones the photograph. "She was difficult?" Mrs. Jones asked. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Central Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing and shoving to get a good look." "Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Jones, her eyes the size of saucers. "Yes," said the photographer. "And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. It was very difficult for me to concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in." "You mean they actually chewed on your, umm, equipment?" Mrs. Jones asked. "That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work." "Tripod?" asked a very worried Mrs. Jones. "Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action." "Madam, madam? Good Lord, she's fainted!"

I really need to wash some mugs.

Mourning wood.

The waiter shrugs, “I’m sorry but you only booked one table…”