Slow down, and possibly use a lubricant
It's Christmas, Eve! Ps Merry Christmas, happy holidays etc etc to all my fellow dads and dad joke lovers 👍
They're just remarkable
Because everyone gets it
"I've gotta know, does Viagra really work?" The pharmacist replied, "it sure does. In fact, I use it myself." "Good to know. Can you get it over the counter?" "Well, yes, if I take two of them."
Two windmills are standing in a field. Wanting to pass the time in conversation one turns to the other and asks “What kind of music do you like?”
The second turns and says: "I am a big metal fan."
She insisted she wanted to speak with the president of the National Bank in order to open an account, saying "a lot of money" was to be dealt with. After some hesitation, the staff escorted the elderly woman to the president's office. The president asked how much money she wanted to deposit in the bank.'$165,000' she answered, and poured the bank notes from her bag on the table. Obviously, the president got really curious about the origin of all this money, so he asked where the cash came from. 'Gambling' she muttered. 'What kind of gambling?' the president asked. 'Bets. Let me give you a real example. I'll bet you $25,000 that your balls are rectangular.' 'Hahaha. That's a stupid bet. You could never win.' 'Would you care to accept the bet, then?' asked the elderly woman in a challenging tone. 'Of course! I'll bet $25,000 that my balls aren't rectangular!' 'Since it's such a large sum, would it be possible for me to return tomorrow morning with my attorney as our witness?' 'Sure' said the president of the bank in an extremely satisfied tone. That night, the president actually got scared because of the bet. He spent quite some time in front of the mirror, checking his balls, turning them to the left, to the right, and to the left again. He meticulously inspected them to make 100% sure his balls weren't rectangular so he could win the bet. The next morning, the elderly woman entered the president's office with her lawyer. She introduced the latter to the president and repeated the bet. 'So $25,000 that the president's balls are rectangular!' The president accepted the bet once again, then the little old woman asked him to lower his pants so they could all see his balls. The president complied. The elderly woman inspected his balls really closely, then inquired whether she could touch them, which the president accepted… after all, he had the opportunity to win $25,000! That's when he noticed the woman's lawyer started to bang his head against the wall. 'What's the problem with your attorney, m'am?' 'Oh, nothing. Only that yesterday I bet him $100,000 that today I'd hold the president of the Canadian National Bank's balls in my hand.'
You'll have to Walkman.
Because if it was served warm it would be Justwater
I guess she found out about me and the babysitter.
It turns out my customers didn't like it when I tried to go the extra mile…
Tomorrow he will learn that most people do not believe you, even if you tell the truth.
Him : I’m a programmer Her : Never mindProgrammersNeverSleep
I don’t know. Sir Cough I guess.
I can't believe I never mentioned herbivore.
And ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name. "So, you're Joe Biden…" "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!" "Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says Joe Biden. "Them's the rules" Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, Biden disappears… And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds… Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be right? "Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite… And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" Biden asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But… Where's all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit mis-represented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there's extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside…" Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, Biden wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes Biden, as Satan signs autographs and cherrily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and the person he admired the most, Strom Thurmond. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food-fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear… And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, Biden falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep… And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says Biden. "So then" says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well… I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell" says Biden. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again. Biden wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???" "Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted…"
Also, the police say on top of having to stay 100 feet away, I need to stop referring to her as my "girlfriend"
the fact that I came to the door naked, or the fact that I knew where he lived.
only a fraction of people will get this joke
I still do, but I used to too
I got thrown out of DisneyWorld for spreading my dead mother’s remains around the park. It was her dying wish.
The security guards said I probably should have cremated her first.
It's almost up to 5 TB.
No text found
Looking at it now, I see why
She hasn't figured it out yet, but the thyme is cumin…
its called Plagiarism
He finished his drink, and asked for his check. Duck billed platypus.