Unless you’re prepared for the reaper cushions.
He and his twin sister, Ling, had recently moved here from China and so they had very traditional names. One day, Ving mentioned to me how much he hated his name. “What kind of name is Ving? It’s so stupid,” he said, frustrated. “You know, you can get your name changed at city hall.” “Really? It’s that easy?” “Yeah you just have to fill out some paperwork.” I paused. “I can drive you if you want.” “Thanks dude. What would I even change my name to though?” “How about something common that holds on to your roots? Something like Lee.” “Lee. I like it.” Unfortunately, Ling had overheard our talk and launched into a tirade about how his name had been in the family for generations and he couldn’t just throw away his heritage like that. Ving was set though. The next day, we drove to city hall. Ling insisted on coming along, hoping to convince Ving to change his mind. She complained the entire way. Ving wasn’t deterred though. We finally got to city hall and got the paperwork. As he was filling it out, Ving’s face changed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “You’ve been excited all day and yesterday for this.” “I know, I know. It’s just— it’s my dad’s name too. I don’t know.” Ving sighed. “I don’t think I can go through with it.” Ling looked relieved. The receptionist noted that there was a small cancellation fee. Ling happily took out some money. Suddenly, an Asian man in Ray-Bans, neon shorts, and an American flag T-shirt bursted through the doors. “Dad!” Ving, tears streaming down his face, ran to embrace his father. Ving Sr. smiled at his son. “Don’t stop. Be Lee, Ving. Hold on to that fee Ling.”
I told him, 'My door is always open!'
During a visit to the mental asylum, I asked the director how do You determine whether or not a patient should be institutionalized.
"Well," said the director, "we fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub." "Oh, I understand," I said. "A normal person would use the bucket because it's bigger than the spoon or the teacup." "No." said the director, "A normal person would pull the bathtub drain plug. Do you want a bed near the window?"
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Take your foot off his head. ** Edit: Some people PM'd me to tell me they found this offensive. I reread it and I agree. Here is the updated version of the joke: Q. How do you stop an anti-vaxer from drowning? A. Take your foot off his or her head. Again, I apologize to any feminists out there for my originally posted version.
I believe it's best to let the doctor do it.
I take an ordinarily terrible pun and take it even father.
I’ve definitely seen some change in him.
I’ll tell you tomorrow.
If it were served warm it would be JustWater
It was all bark and no bite.
They just pick it up as they go along.
I did that but now I don’t know what to do with the letters
…how limited my vocabulary is.
Those were the Good Years.
“All those getting off, go on fuck off, and all those gettin on fucking hurry up” The woman smacks his bum and sends him upstairs till he’s learned his lesson. 2 hours later the boy comes back down, says sorry to his mum and carries on playing, Mum listens in: ”all those departing thank you for travelling with us and have a good day! All those boarding, mind the gap and have a safe journey!…And all those who are upset by the 2 hour delay, blame the fat cunt in the kitchen!
But I barely made it.
He's the pitcher.
To fulfill my fantasy that we have healthcare
A mother asks her son: "Bob, do you think I’m a bad mom?" – Son: "My name is Paul."
He didn't listen though.
It was a third degree burn
I said “like bacon and burgers?” He said “no fatty, don’t eat anything!”
Because no one wants a blowjob from a girl when her teeth are chattering.
Man: Can’t say that I do. Therapist: Exactly. That’s the main one.
For years and years, he scrimped, scrounged, and saved up all his money for a lavish trip to Italy. Wanting to look his best for the pontiff, he had a custom-fitted suit tailored to his exact measurements and bought the finest Italian leather boots money could buy. The next morning he awoke before the dawn to make his way to Vatican City to meet the pope on his morning walk through his crowd of devout followers. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd, wanting to get as close to the Holy Father as possible. The grand doors opened and the pope emerged, greeting his followers, shaking hands, and offering blessings. The man caught the pope's eye, and the pope smiled and started walking towards him. This was it! He was finally going to get to share words with God's representative on Earth! Just as he was approaching the man, the pope noticed a downtrodden beggar lying in the ditch opposite the man. The pope changed course, made way for the beggar, bent down, and whispered something in the poor man's ear. The beggar nodded, got up, and walked off. The pope, now on the other side of the crowd, continued on away from the man. The man was devastated. He had missed his only chance to fulfill his ultimate dream. As the crowd dispersed, he noticed the beggar in the distance. A plan emerged in his mind. He made his way up to the beggar and said, "Sir, I would like to offer you a trade. I will give you my suit, my boots, and all of the cash in my wallet in exchange for your rags and tattered shoes. I believe this act of humility is my best chance to finally meet the pope." The poor man quickly agreed, of course, and the two men traded clothes. The next morning, the man made his way back to the Vatican and proceeded to lie down in the exact spot the beggar was the day before. The grand doors opened once again, and the pontiff emerged to meet his people. As the pope was walking through the crowd, the man saw that the pope was heading his way! His plan was going to work! Sure enough, the pope came over to him, knelt down and whispered, "I thought I told you to get the fuck out of here yesterday."
"Have to love Easter, baby…."
The corolla virus.
I don’t understand how she can feel that way.