"I feel fat, old and ugly, give me a compliment". The man replies: "Your eyes are still working great".
Then they call me ugly and poor.
His parents go to a plastic surgeon and the surgeon finds out the boy hasn’t been circumcised yet. The foreskin has nearly the same tissue as the eyelids, so the surgeon suggests a procedure using the baby’s foreskin to fix this problem. Ecstatic, the parents agree. After a few hours of surgery, it was a success! The boy is fine now, he’s just a little cock-eyed.
Everybody congratulates you but nobody knows how many times you got F**ed to achieve it.
I wanted to make a joke out of it, but I think it would be very tasteless.
That idiot doesn't have a Clue.
Her husband was coming home late again, so she leave a note saying “I’ve had enough and have left you. Don’t bother coming after me.” Then she hides underneath the bed so she can watch his reaction. Soon the husband comes home. She hears him in the kitchen before the comes into the bedroom. She sees him walk up to the dress and pick up the note. He stops for a minute. Grabs a pen, writes something down on the note. He picks up the phone and calls someone saying “She’s finally gone. Yeah I know, about bloody time. I’m coming to see you. Put on that sexy French nightie I like. I love you and I cannot wait to see you. We’ll do all the naughty things you like.” He hung up the phone, grabs his keys, and walks out the door. She hears the car drive off as she’s holding back tears and comes out from underneath the bed. She’s seething with rage and grabs the note to see what he wrote: “I can see your feet. We’re outta bread: be back in 5 mins.”
When they dug the remains up they saw that the skeleton had a fine layer of chocolate on it and after months of intense research they discovered that it was the remains of the famous Pharaoh Rocher.
When they arrive, the doctor says that he invented a machine to transfer part of the labor pain of the mother to the father of the baby. He then asks if they agree. The couple accepts gladly the procedure. The doctor puts the machine at 10% for starting, explaining that even the 10% it's probably more pain that the father could ever bear. But when the labor started, the husband was feeling okay and he asked the doctor to raise the level. The doctor raised the transfer to 20%. The husband was still feeling good. The former checked the blood pressure of the latter and he was surprised by how good he was reacting. At this point, both decided to raise the transfer up to 50%. The husband was STILL feeling good. Since the transfer of pain was really helping the wife, the husband encouraged the doctor to transfer ALL the pain to him. The woman gave birth to a healthy child and virtually with no pain. She and her husband were really happy. When they got home, they found the mailman dead on the porch.
I wish I could post it in another subreddit
Yoda and Luke are walking through the swamp. Part of their usual training course involves shimmying along a cliff ledge, but today, there’s a long break in the ledge they can’t cross…
“Something for this I have.” Yoda says. He reaches into his bag and takes out a bunch of regular dinner table forks and a roll of duct tape. He tapes several forks together to make a bridge and lays it down, allowing the two of them to get across. When they get back to Yoda’s hovel, they find that some creature has chewed a hole in the fence around Yoda’s garden. “Something I have for this.” Yoda says again. Once again, he takes a bunch of forks out of his bag and, using duct tape, tapes them in to patch the hole. Yoda and Luke return to Yoda’s home, where Yoda looks through his bag. He’s used all his forks but one, he discovers. “That’s ok Master." Luke says, wanting to be helpful. “I’ll write us a note reminding us to buy more.” So he writes the note and uses the very last fork to pin it to the bulletin board. He looks down at Yoda expecting pride, but instead finds a look of horror. “Master Yoda!” he asks. “What did I do wrong?” Yoda replies sagely, “A Jedi uses the forks for no ledge and the fence. Never for a tack!”
The teacher isn't there on time. A few minutes passed, and she still hasn't arrived yet. James kinda figured, while the teacher was away, he ought to keep writing his novel he's been working on, about cats. James' dream is to become a big shot writer with the desire to have a best-seller. He's written and sent in books before, but no luck. He's tried written short stories, children's stories, poems, and even a few attempted novels. However, none of those were considered good enough to publish. However, this next story that he has planned, he figures it's gonna be HUGE. It's the story about a runaway cat, told from a first-person view of the cat himself. The cat is supposedly trying to figure out how to return home, and how to survive. After giving it much thought, and after receiving the feedback from the other failed attempts, he decided to put his all into his book. It'll be a smash hit. After about fifteen minutes, the teacher finally shows up to first period. The teacher apologizes, "Sorry, I'm late. My dumbass boyfriend doesn't know how to properly set an alarm clock." Upon hearing those words, a light bulb suddenly went off in James' head. Boyfriend… clock… that's it! That's the perfect story! During class, he decided to try and take notes as to the concept of the book in itself. So far, he has the idea of a guy falling in love with an analog clock, something about how digital clocks are about to go outdated, and that he feels nostalgic by them and doesn't want them to fade away… that's what he's come up with so far. Yeah. A story about a guy that has a sexual relationship with an analog clock. It's a strange story, he knows, but he feels it's quite an original story, to the point where it will definitely put him over the top, WAY more than his cat story he's been working on. Once he gets home, he puts way more time and effort coming up with the characters, the plot details, and so on and so forth. Finally, by the time he has to go to sleep, he's already completed two chapters. A few weeks later, he's already completed the book. He's so excited about what he's written, where he feels like a big shot. He feels this will definitely be the book that brings him to success. It's well-written, has great structure, and he feels that he wrote the main character enough to where you'd actually empathize with his romantic relationship about the clock, and why exactly he wanted to marry the clock in the first place. He titles the book "Holding Hands". He sends it in to the first publishing company. A few days later, he gets a call, saying that it was one of the worst things they've ever read. Feeling distraught by this, he decides to try again with a different publishing company. However, a few weeks later, he's given the exact same statement, that it was terrible. He tries over and over again, but nothing really seems to happen. Finally, he decides to give it one last shot. One more publishing company, and if they reject it, he'll scrap the book entirely and possibly resume the cat story that he originally had his eyes on. He sends it in, and… no one contacts him. Days later, not a word. Weeks pass, months. A few years, even. By this point, James has already graduated high school and went to college for writing. His cat story was also rejected, but hopefully he'll be able to write a masterpiece once he graduates and gets his degree. By now, he's also married and has a child on the way. Suddenly, out of the blue, his phone rings. He couldn't believe it. It was the publishing company from a few years back! He answers the phone. "Hello?" A woman answers, "Hello, is this James?" He affirms. She says to him, "I'm just calling to let you know that we've recently read your book you sent us, "Holding Hands"." He says, "Yeah. It's about fucking time."
DAD: I’ll have the rabbit stew WAITER: only if you promise not to say “waiter there’s a hare in my soup” after I bring it … DAD: I’ll have the chicken
So i packed up my things and right
The secret service isn’t allowed to yell “Get down!” anymore when the president is about to be attacked.
Now they have to yell "Donald, duck!"
Her 9 year old son comes home unexpectedly, sees them and hides in the bedroom closet to watch. The woman's husband also comes home. She puts her lover in the closet, not realizing that the little boy is in there already. The little boy says, "It's dark in here." The man says, "Yes, it is." The boy says "I have a baseball." The man says "That's nice." Boy asks "Want to buy it?" Man replies "No, thanks." Boy says "My dad's outside." Man "okay, how much?" Boy "$250" In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the lover are in the closet together. Boy "Its dark in here." Man "Yes, it is." Boy "I have a baseball glove." The lover remembering the last time, asks the boy, "How much?" Boy "$750? Man "fine" A few days later, the father says to the boy, "Grab your glove, let's go outside and have a game of catch." The boy says, "I can't, I sold my baseball and my glove." The father asks, "How much did you sell them for?" Boy ~ "$1,000?" The father says, "That's terrible to overcharge your friends like that… that is way more than those two things cost." "I'm going to take you to church and make you confess." They go to the church and the father makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and he closes the door. The boy says, "It's dark in here." The priest says, "Don't start that crap again."
Remains to be seen.
My family takes monopoly too seriously
Because everyone knows white mails get through the system faster.
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."
if you guessed "heaven nun" or "Angel nun" you are wrong. The answer is "nun of the above" !
I call it my Trail Mix.
A private tutor
Turns out, Israel
Well, I don't know where to begin.
Police are following a number of leads.
"Use the fork Luke"