Your probably dyslexic.
The Englishman admires it and says "Look at them, calm, reserved, and proper, they were surely English." The Frenchmen laughs and replies "They are naked and beautiful, there is no doubt they would be French." The Russian slowly shakes his head "No clothes, no house, no possessions, they have only an apple to eat, and they are told this is paradise. My friends, they are definitely Russian."
That's me in the corner.
It’s not the end of the word.
She sells sea shells by the sea shore.
Mice krispies. I’ll see myself to the door now
Hope you all have a great Christmas and wishing you a merry 2014
Because It had a lot of degrees.
when a lizard walks up and says "Hey koala what are you doing?" The koala answers "Smoking a joint, come up and have some." The lizard climbs up and the two share the joint. After a while the lizard says his mouth is dry and excuses himself to a nearby river to have a drink. The lizard, so stoned, leans over too far and falls in. A crocodile swims out to rescue him. When they get onto dry land, the croc asks, "What's wrong with you, lizard?" The lizard tells him that he was smoking a joint with a koala, and he got too stoned and fell in while taking a drink. The croc has to see this for himself, so he asks the lizard to take him to the koala. When they get back to the tree, the croc looks up at the koala and says "Hey, you." The koala looks down and says "Shiiiit dude, how much water did you drink?"
Because it's made of hide
So I simply sat down and looked comfortable, that did the trick
Went out. Had a few drinks. Nice guy. He’s a web designer.
If found guilty he'll be given a real tough sentence
#4e5054, #272727, #282828, #292929, #2b2b2b, #2c2c2c, #2e2e2e, #313131, #323232, #343434, #353535, #373737, #393939, #3a3a3a, #3c3c3c, #3f3f3f, #404040, #424242, #444444, #454545, #474747, #484848, #4a4a4a, #4b4b4b, #4d4d4d, #4e4e4e, #505050, #515151, #535353, #565656, #575757, #585858, #595959, #5b5b5b, #5c5c5c, #5e5e5e, #616161, #626262, #646464, #656565, #676767, #6a6a6a, #6b6b6b, #6c6c6c, #6d6d6d, #6f6f6f, #727272, #737373, #757575, #767676, #777777, #7b7b7b, #7c7c7c, #7d7d7d, #7e7e7e, #808080, #818181, #838383, #868686, #878787, #888888, #898989, #8b8b8b, #8c8c8c, #8e8e8e, #919191, #929292, #949494, #959595, #979797, #9a9a9a, #9b9b9b, #9c9c9c, #9d9d9d, #9f9f9f, #a0a0a0, #a2a2a2, #a5a5a5, #a6a6a6, #a8a8a8, #a9a9a9, #ababab, #aeaeae, #afafaf, #b0b0b0.
It was the best dam program I've ever seen
…NOTHING gets done after that first bottle.
She replied, “Yes, it is and don’t call me Shirley!” I guess I left my phone in Airplane mode again…
Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. PHD’s Letter From Birmingham Jail, his response to southern religious leaders accusing his protest movement of being too extremist and badly timed.
I highly suggest everyone reads the full text of the letter linked at the bottom of this post. The mod team was deliberating for days to think of what sections we should link to as an excerpt in this post, when we realized that we were just copying the entire letter at one point. Every word King writes here is powerful.You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city’s white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.[…]My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”–then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that “an unjust law is no law at all.”[…]Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.[…]I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.[…]I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.[…]And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as “rabble rousers” and “outside agitators” those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies–a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label.https://ift.tt/2UjhbQc /r/PoliticalHumor mod team decided that this sticky would be a much more effective support action than shutting down the subreddit or other standard Reddit protests, because honestly, those protests don’t do much.)
During the Battle of Britain, in just one day, he destroyed 8 German aircrafts killing 32 Nazis. Literally the worst mechanic the Luftwaffe ever had.
Inmate: It’s bec.. Officer: Yes? Inmate: I think I have.. Officer: Go on. Inmate: Can I Please finish my sentence? Officer: Sure. Parole denied.
But so far I've made three jugs and a vase and they're lovely.
It says that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. But have you heard of Cole’s law? It’s thinly sliced cabbage.
I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you.
A Christian, a Muslim, and an Atheist all day the same day. They all approach the pearly gates where St. Peter awaits them. St. Peter calls the first man up and asks what religion he is. “I’m a Christian” says the first man. “Very well, continue on and you will be in room 16, just be really quiet near room 8” said St. Peter The next man walks up and St. Peter asks what religion he was. “I am a Muslim” says the man “Very well, you will be in room 29, just be very quiet around room 8” replies St. Peter The third and final man walks forth and St. Peter again asks what religion he was. “I am an Atheist” answers the man “Very well, you will be in Room 56, just be very quiet around room 8” says St. Peter The man asks, “If I may, why must I be quiet around room 8?” St. Peter replies, “Room 8 is where the Catholics are, and they think they’re the only ones here”
…and says, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. The priest replies, “Go ahead, my child.” “Well”, she says, “Last night I made love to me boyfriend… FIVE TIMES! And it was GLORIOUS, Father. He made me tingle all over, and I swear it was as though I was seein’ the stars in my passion. And, I think I may have wailed like a banshee. More than once. And me legs was all wibbly wobbly, even the next mornin’. But, I know that makin’ love to me boyfriend before marriage is a sin, and I’ve come seekin’ absolution. The priest sits back, rubs his forehead, and looks at the young lass and says, “Right. What I need for you to do is go down to Mr. O’Malley’s market and get four good sized lemons. Go home, cut them in half, and squeeze the juice into a nice tall glass and drink in down straight away.” The girl looks at the priest with a confused look and asks, “ Will that absolve me of me sin, Father?” “NO, but it’ll wipe the smile off yer face!”
So a man was lost, wandering alone in an inhospatible desert. He wandered for what seemed like days, and was by this point very thirsty and quite hungry. As if in answer to his cries for help, he sees in the distance a small tent with a long rope leading up into the air, and another small tent floating there very high above it. Surely, this second tent in the air must be a mirage, but the first one on the ground seems real enough. The man staggers up to the tent, trying not to think too hard about the second tent up in the air, or the odd pink rope that he can plainly see extending down into a small hole in the ground. When he gets close enough, he can see a withered old couple sitting next to a withered old cow with its face buried in the sand and rocks. The old couple, surprised to see a stranger this far out in the desert, hurry to help the man into the shade of the tent. Let's give him a glass of whey, they say in unison. The man, quite sure now that this tent at least is not a mirage, feels a sudden revulsion at the thought of drinking a glass of whey. Please, says the man, do you have any water? Not much water in the desert, the old couple reply in unison. How do you live here with no water? the man asks. Well, you see, the couple explains, we have a long-tongued desert cow, she sticks her tongue way down underground to where there is water. We milk, her, but since she eats very little, the milk comes out as only whey. In response to this commentary, the cow flicks an ear and swats at an insect with her tail. I'm sorry, the man says, but I'm afraid I might throw up if I try to drink a glass of whey. I don't mean to snub your generosity. Don't you have anything else I could drink? Or is there a well nearby? The only other person for many miles is our neighbors in the tent floating above ours. The strange couple say in unison. The man looks up, finally acknowledging the tent floating in the air. You can see their long-tongued desert cow's tongue reaching down into that hole in the ground right there. They live off nothing but whey as well. Feeling delirious from exposure, the man asks one more time… So there's nothing else to drink? And the old couple reply… It's either our whey… or the high whey.
“No son, have you seen my dad glasses?”
I asked what the hell are you doing? He said his wife and him were having problems and the marriage counselor told him he had to do something sexy to a tractor.
That's a ray of hope!
Buzz lightyear = buzz 9.4605284 × 1015 meters
As she rode by. She looked at me, gave me the finger, and turned back around and promptly plowed her bike into the cow. I tried.