There is a law in my city that people who live somewhere else can’t be buried in any of it’s cemeteries.
It's because they are still alive.
An engineer dies and is sent to hell
He's hot and miserable, so he decides to take action. The A/C has been busted for a long time, so he fixes it. Things cool down quickly. The moving walkway motor jammed, so he un-jams it. People can get from place to place more easily. The TV was grainy and unclear, so he fixes the connection to the Satellite dish and now they get hundreds of high def channels. One day, God decides to look down on Hell to see how his grand design is working out and notices that everyone is happy and enjoying umbrella drinks. He asks the Devil what's up? The Devil says, "Things are great down here since you sent us an engineer." "What?" says God. "An engineer? I didn't send you one of those. That must have been a mistake. Send him upstairs immediately." The Devil responds, "No way. We want to keep our engineer. We like him." God demands, "If you don't send him to me immediately, I'll sue!" The Devil laughs. "Where are YOU going to get a lawyer?"
You can tell an ant’s gender by putting it in water
If it sinks, it’s a girl ant. If it floats, it’s buoyant.
I occasionally enjoy leaning on things.
When I'm so inclined.
A professor, a CEO, and a janitor are in a forest when they discover a magic fairy.
The fairy says "I will give you what you most desire if you do someone else's job for a day." The professor says "I'll be an elementary school teacher. What can be so hard about teaching a bunch of 6-year-olds how to read?" so he is teleported into a classroom. After a few minutes, all the kids' screaming gets to his nerves, so he throws all his supplies and gives up. The C.E.O says "I'll be a waiter. All you do is carry food back and forth. This'll be a breeze" so he is teleported to a restaurant. After about an hour, all the annoying customers drive him insane, so he smashes his plates on the ground and gives up. The janitor says "I'll be an artist" so he is transported to an art facility. He glues all the classroom supplies and shattered plates to a canvas, then sells it for a billion dollars. The fairy asks the janitor how he was so clever. The janitor says "I got a masters degree in art."
My wife and I went on our honeymoon to Australia, but unfortunately, I had to dial the help line.
"G'day this is Tim, you've reached the Aussie help line. How can we help ya?" I told him, "We were in the ocean and my wife was stung by a jellyfish on her lady parts. Her vagina is completely swollen shut. It's our honeymoon, and well….ya know." The guy on the help line replies, "Ah, bummer mate!" I say, "I hadn't thought of that! Thanks for the advice. You've saved my honeymoon!"
A young girl who was writing a paper for school came to her father and asked: “Dad, what is the difference between anger and exasperation?”
The father replied: “It is mostly a matter of degree. Let me show you what I mean.” With that the father went to the telephone and dialled a number at random. To the man who answered the phone, he said: “Hello, is Melvin there?” The man answered: “There is no one living here named Melvin. Why don’t you learn to look up numbers before you dial.” “See,” said the father to his daughter. “That man was not a bit happy with our call. He was probably very busy with something and we annoyed him. Now watch.” The father dialled the number again. “Hello, is Melvin there?” asked the father. “Now look here!” came the heated reply. “You just called this number and I told you that there is no Melvin here! You’ve got a lot of guts calling again!” The receiver slammed down hard. The father turned to his daughter and said: “You see, that was anger. Now I’ll show you what exasperation means.” He dialled the same number, and when a violent voice roared: “Hello!” The father calmly said: “Hello, this is Melvin. Have there been any calls for me?”
I walked up to a fit girl at a bar the other night and said,
"Hey gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?" She said, "Do you like sex?" I said, "Of course I like sex." She said, "Do you like to travel?" I said, "Yeah, I love to travel." She said, "Then fuck off."
Three men are in a hotel room in Soviet Russia.
The first two men open a bottle of vodka, while the third is tired and goes straight to bed. He is unable to sleep however, as his increasingly drunk friends tell political jokes loudly. After a while, the tired man gets frustrated and walks downstairs for a smoke. He stops in the lounge and asks the receptionist to bring tea to their room in five minutes. The man walks back into the room, joins the table, leans towards a power outlet and speaks into it: "Comrade major, we want some tea to room 62 please." His friends laugh on the joke, until there is a knock on the door. The receptionist brings a tea pot. His friends fall silent and pale, horrified of what they just witnessed. The party is dead, and the man goes to sleep. After a good night's rest, the man wakes up, and notices his friends are gone. Surprised, he walks downstairs and asks the receptionist where they went. The nervous receptionist whispers that KGB came and took them before dawn. The man is horrified. He wonders why he was spared. The receptionist responds: "Well, comrade major did quite like your tea gag."
What did the nut say when he was chasing the other nut?
I’m a CASHEW!
Three years ago I mistakenly bought my son a giant conch shell…
I have a son who’s on the spectrum. It’s quite common for people like him to latch onto one specific topic and become an absolute encyclopedia about it. Some people choose trains, some a cartoon. For my son, this was mollusks. Interesting topic I know, but it seemed to be a pretty good deal for us because it meant he’d get really excited about going outside to the beach which we figured was healthier than staying inside all the time. He’d always have a shell with him, or in his pocket. Usually he doesn’t want to talk much, but if you opened the conversation to it, he’d sit there rattling off facts about mollusks for hours. This was shaping up to be a long term passion, so for his 15th birthday I went out and bought him a giant conch shell. He absolutely loved it. The texture, holding it to his ear etc. It was too big to carry around with him all the time, but he kept it by his bed. Fast forward three years, this is where things get weird. About a month ago I was cleaning his room and picked up the conch to dust it off, something I’ve never actually done before. I was immediately hit by a terrible smell – I don’t want to get too into the gross details but I’m a dude, a once 18 year old dude, so I know what happens when you use something to masturbate and don’t clean it. I’m sure we all know what that smells like even after a week. It was pretty clear he had been using this shell as a kind of Strombidae fleshlight for a long, long time without cleaning it. I’m not going to share too much about what happened when this all came to light, but we tried taking it away and my god you’d think we just took his whole world. We decided to give the shell back, but worried this reflected a deeper issue my partner and I decided to get some professional help. So it’s been about a month of him seeing a behavioural therapist, and she recently asked me about his progress at home. I told her it’s been incredibly promising so far. He’s really starting to come out of his shell.
What kind of organization does an atheist start?
A non-prophet one
My friend is a gay midget, who finally decided it was time to tell his parents
I was so proud of him for coming out of the cabinet!
My 3 watts blue laser pointer finally arrived and I played with it over the weekend.
I can no longer see why people say these devices were so dangerous.
[NSFW] I went to the library and asked the librarian if they had the new book about small penises.
She said “I don’t think it’s in yet.” I replied “Yeah, that’s the one.”
I got the words “jacuzzi” and “yakuza” confused.
Now I’m in hot water with the Japanese mafia.
A cop pulls over an old lady for speeding on a highway. He asks for her driver’s license and registration.
When she opens her wallet, he notices a conceal-carry permit. He asks, “Ma’am, do you have a weapon in your possession at this time?” She responds "I'll bet you $100 you can't guess the answer to that question" as she slaps a crisp bill on her dashboard. The cop rubs his chin and thinks for a moment and then says " OK lady, I'll take that bet." He guesses that she has a .38 Special in her purse. And a .45 in her glove box. And a 9mm Glock in the center console. And a shotgun in the trunk. “However did you guess that young man?" The old lady says grasping her pearls. "You see ma'am," the cop said snatching up the hundred-dollar bill, "This is Reddit. After I read about you on the third repost, I knew I'd find you soon enough."
Angry man comes to local bar with gun yelling:
-Which one of you fucked my wife??!! Some guy in the crowd says: – you should bring more bullets
If you’re here for the yodeling lesson
please form an orderly orderly orderly queue.
Minneapolis City is disbanding the police
So now it's just Minnea City
A book fell on my head
I've only got myshelf to blame….
My neighbor walked past with two dogs and I said, “I didn’t know you had dogs.” He replied, “They’re not my dogs, they’re my sisters.”
I exclaimed, "Wow, your sisters are really ugly!"
What is a ghost pirate’s favorite kind of tea?
Boo tea. (Courtesy of my 6 year old)
I write my name in cursive all the time –
It's my signature move.
A married man was having an affair with his secretary.
One day, their passions overcame them and they took off for her house, where they made passionate love all afternoon. Exhausted from the wild sex, they fell asleep, awakening at around 8:00 pm. As the man threw on his clothes, he told the woman to take his shoes outside and rub them through the grass and dirt. Mystified, she nonetheless complied. He slipped into his shoes and drove home. "Where have you been?" demanded his wife when he entered the house. "Darling, I can't lie to you,” the husband said. “I've been having an affair with my secretary and we had sex all afternoon. I fell asleep and didn't wake up until eight o'clock." The wife glanced down at his shoes and said, "You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!"
I asked Arnold Schwarzenegger what his favourite religious holday was. He said
"Have to love Easter, baby…."
I’m hosting a charity event for people who struggle to reach orgasm.
If you can't come, let me know.
I’m not sure what shocked my mailman more
That I came to the door naked or that I knew where he lived
A man walks into a bank wearing a mask. Everyone freaks out.
“Relax” he says, “I’m just here to rob the place”
A serial killer leaves his mark by writing four numbers on each victim.
On the right palm, on the forehead, on the left palm, and on the abdomen. The first victim is discovered in the Florida Everglades. 0, 8, 2 on his hands and forehead. 5 on his abdomen. “We believe the numbers may be significant,” a uniformed man reads from a prepared statement to the press, “but we cannot say for sure at this time.” Detective Pierce has seen more faces of death than any man should ever have to endure, but this case—this seems different, somehow. Another victim is discovered in the marshes of Louisiana soon after. 0, 8, 0 on her hands and forehead. 19 on her abdomen. Are they connected? Law enforcement in Louisiana contact the agency in Florida. Criminal psychologists and cipher experts are called in to decode the strange numerical messages. Nothing yet. There isn’t enough data. Detective Pierce knows, if there is a deeper meaning, it will only surface with more bodies. To solve the murder, more must be committed. A cruel irony. A third victim emerges, and a macabre certainty is apparent—a serial killer. 0, 6, 9; 2 “What could it mean?” Detective Pierce ponders over a table littered with dozens of photographs. The psychological stress begins to weigh on him. He first began the investigation into the mysterious number killings, and he now makes it his mission to discover the secret of these symbols and put an end to this evil. More victims. 0, 7, 1; 6 0, 6, 5; 10 0, 7, 8; 8 0, 7, 3; 12 0, 6, 9; 4 0, 7, 8; 9 “069 repeats!” the authorities notice after the ninth victim is discovered. “It’s certainly a code!” “And here! The victims with 8 and 9 on the abdomen have identical numbers on the hands and forehead too: both 0, 7, 8.” Detective Pierce broods over this information. He locks himself away with the numbers, poring through literature about ciphers and codes. He devises complex algorithms to analyze the data, looking for patterns. Pierce has always put work before his family. His colleagues will all tell you that. But the domestic strain from the number killings is pushing his relationships to the brink of collapse. Another body in Florida. 0, 8, 5; 17 Pierce is on the scene, crouching over the Number Killer’s latest conquest, examining the slapdash 17 scrawled unceremoniously on the abdomen. “Detective Pierce.” A voice from behind him. Pierce stands and peels the purple nitrile gloves from his hands and glowers at the intruder on his crime scene. “Agent Rickson. Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my crime scene now, sir. I’ll need a full briefing.” “The hell it is!” Pierce snaps back. “I’ve been working these killings from day one! You think you can just come in here with your federal mandate and expect me to catch you up on all the work my people have done?!” Agent Rickson hands Pierce a bound legal envelope. “You’ve been relieved.” “This isn’t over. You’re gambling with people’s lives…sir.” Detective Pierce practically spits the final word at the agent’s feet before snatching the envelope and rushing off the scene. Over the next two weeks, eight more victims. Pierce’s anxiety has left him unable to leave his office. He hasn’t been home in three days. Though he’s officially off the case, he’s still haunted by the numbers and mounting body count. His work has suffered to the point that his superiors have issued reprimands. At his wits’ end, Detective Pierce pulls officer Malloy into his office. Malloy is a rookie who’s eager to please and has a knack for numbers. “I need you on special assignment, rookie.” Pierce is looking pensively out his office window when Malloy enters. “Special assignment, sir?” “Secret, special assignment, Malloy.” He turns and places a sealed envelope on the table. “I need you to collect everything we have on the Number Killings. Meet me at the address enclosed here. Tomorrow night. Midnight. Tell no one.” “But sir, I thought you had been reliev-” “Dammit, rookie! Do you want more people to die?! We need to figure out this nonsense now or we’re going to end up with dead bodies in triple digits, son!” Malloy reluctantly agrees. He smuggles boxes of files and pictures out of the precinct late the next night and meets Pierce at an abandoned warehouse to go over the information. For hours, the two sit at opposite tables, running numbers, delving into research, and analyzing the evidence, late into the early hours of the morning. With a sudden energetic vigor, Malloy springs from his chair and cries out, “ASCII!” Startled out of his analytic trance, Pierce inquires, “What did you say, Malloy?” “ASCII! It’s a computer language that uses numbers to represent letters! Look!” Malloy pulls up a reference sheet and begins arranging numbers on Pierce’s desk. “If we take the abdomen numbers as the order, and the palm and foreheadnumbers as the code for the letter…” “Malloy, you’re a genius!” Working furiously, Pierce and Malloy clear a space on the dusty warehouse floor to lay out the pictures in sequence: Abdomens: 6, 12, 17… G, I, U… 4, 9, 11… E, N, G… In minutes, the men have spread 76 photos over a 10 foot square of the warehouse floor and scratched nervous letters on ripped sheets of notebook paper under each group corresponding to the symbol. As they finish, Malloy stands back to survey the message. “No…” All blood drains from his face. His legs go weak, and he collapses onto his knees. “It can’t…It just…It can’t! Detective Pierce is wide-eyed next to Malloy’s broken form, mouth agape. A sound from the warehouse wall rattles the building as a dozen federal agents storm the facility. “Mother of God…” Pierce doesn’t even notice the agents. His unbroken stare is consumed by the message on the dusty warehouse floor. Agent Rickson grabs hold of Detective Pierce. “You’re under arrest for interfering with a federal investigation and tampering with evidence.” Malloy sheepishly confesses. “I told them everything! I told them you wanted me to take the evidence. It was a setup. I was worried about you. I’m sorry! But I never thought…oh God! What can we do?!” Pierce is handcuffed, and as he is dragged backward from the grotesque mosaic of death, he laughs in spite of himself, “You monster…” As he comes back to his senses, Pierce begins tearing at the agents pulling him away. He lets out a shrill, animalistic shriek… “YOU MONSTER!!” The other agents crowd around the space on the floor that has itself become a crime scene, and in an eerie silence, they collectively ponder the ethereal message left by the elusive Numbers Killer: “NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP” EDIT (TLDR): Thanks for the support, and also some people are asking for a tldr because (obviously) it's really long. Here's a video to basically sum it up. Have a nice day. Also, thank you /u/about_tyme for ASCII number edits.
What do you call a nose with no body?
Nobody knows
A Jewish man decides his son isn’t religious enough, so he pays for him to go visit Israel…
When his son comes back, however, he says he's now a Christian. Exasperated, the man goes to his friend for advice, but his friend says, "that's funny, I sent my son to Israel last year and when he came back, he also said he was Christian." The two men decide to speak to their rabbi about this, but when they explain the situation the rabbi says, "that's funny, two years ago I sent my son to Israel, and he also came back a Christian." The three men decide only God can have the answer, so they pray. The rabbi says aloud "dear God, all three of us sent our sons to Israel, and all of them came back Christian." God's voice booms down, "that's funny…"