Even one was unnecessary
When I was younger my parents made me walk the plank.
We couldn't afford a dog.
I don’t get jokes about school shootings
I guess they must be aimed at a younger audience.
What type of music do windmills like?
I heard they're big metal fans.
People in I’m r/im14andthisisdeep said that this comic would fit in this subreddit
https://ift.tt/2QFLn5b
It’s funny that when a guy sleeps with a ton of girls, he is a stud.
But when a girl sleeps with a ton of guys, I’m somehow never one of them.
“Hey Dad, why does Jesus wear a crown of thorns in every picture?”
“No idea. That’s a real head-scratcher.”
I tried to think of a good Star Wars pun
But it just felt Forced.
My wife said she was leaving me because of my obsession with wearing different clothes every half an hour…
“Wait!" I shouted. "I can change!"
A student goes to talk to his professor about his grade.
The student comes up to the professor, "What is this, why did you grade me an 80?" The professor looks at the exam again, "Yep, an 80 is what you deserve" The student takes the exam back, and asks "If I'll bite my own eye, will you give me an 85?" The professor is surprised, but still he agrees, at which point the student then takes out his glass eye – and bites it. The shocked professor then takes the exam back, and marks it 85. The student then says "If I'll bite my nose, will you give me a 90?" The professor is once again shocked, "He can't pull out his nose" he thinks to himself. He finally agrees, at which point the student takes out his dentures, and bites his own nose. The professor then once again takes the exam, and marks the grade 90. The student then makes another offer: "If I'll get up on this table, and pee the perfume Coco Chanel on you, will you give me a 100?" The professor now has to see what this kid can do, so he agrees. The student goes on the table, and pees all over the professor, the professor's shirt is soaking wet, as he goes to to sniff it. "What the hell?! This isn't Coco Chanel! This is piss!" The student then goes "Fine, we'll leave it at 90".
Whoever stole my antidepressants..
I hope you're happy now.
I asked a German girl for her number and I’m still waiting for the rest of the numbers
So far all I have is 9.
My boss yelled at me the other day, “You’ve got to be the worst train driver in history. How many trains did you derail last year?”
I said, "Can’t say for sure, it’s so hard to keep track!"
I got into a fight with 1, 3, 5, 7 and 9.
The odds were against me.
Three friends bragged about who has more sex….
Friend A said "You all have nothing on me. I go to the bar and bring home a woman every night. Not only that but I drive a corvette into work everyday and have a 8 inch penis. I have slept with more than 1,000 women" Friend B said "Oh yeah? Well I'm the top gynecologist doctor at the most highly rated hospitals in the world. I make $800,000 a year, have patients and nurses who have sex with me every hour I'm at work. All the women compliment me on my 12 inch penis. I have slept with well over 5,000 women." Friend C said, "I have you all beat. I fucked over all the Redditors who were expecting a punchline to this joke."
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.
Why do norwegians put barcodes on their ships?
So when they dock, they can scandinavian.
I’m following my girlfriend to England for the semester.
I’ll be studying a broad.
How do poets say hello?
Hey, haven’t we metaphor?
When I turned into a teenager, my dad repeatedly emphasized the importance of using a condom whenever I have sex.
He said, “Anyone who would sleep with you would sleep with almost anyone else.”
A teacher asks her class to name a word beginning with A
Little Jonny raises his hand and the teacher thinks "I'm not asking Jonny, he will say something like asshole". She asks Suzanna who says "Apple". The She asks for a word beginning with B. Again Jonny raises his hand and the teacher thinks "I'm not asking Jonny, he will say bastard", so she asks Stephen, who replies "Balloon"..This goes on until they get to the letter G. Again Jonny raises his hand and the teacher thinks "Hmm, I cant think of any swear word beginning with G", so she asks Jonny. "Gnome" says Jonny. Very surprised, the teachers says "That's excellent Jonny, and do you know what a gnome is?" "Yeah" replies Jonny, "It's a little cunt at bottom of my garden that fucks fairies"
How often should columns be connected at the top?
Just a lintel bit of the time
Why don’t blind people go skydiving?
It scares the hell out of the dog.
A Husband Whispers in his Wife’s Ear at the Bar
"Do you remember the first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind the bar where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you." Yes, she says, "I remember it oh so well!" OK, he says, "Let's go there again, and we can do it for old time's sake?" "Oh Marvin, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy, but good idea!" A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and, having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, I've got to see these two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them so there's no trouble. So he follows them. The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks. Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence The old lady lifts her skirt and the old man drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in.. Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen. This goes on for about ten minutes while both are making loud noises and moaning and screaming. Finally, they both collapse, panting on the ground. The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and old age that he didn't know. After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggles to their feet and put their clothes back on. The policeman is still watching and thinks to himself, this is truly amazing, I've got to ask them what their secret is. So, as the couple passes, he says to them, "Excuse me, but that was something else. You must've had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?" Shaking, the old man is barely able to reply, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."
The power went out in my house today.
I was delighted.
From a physicist: ICP is actually right about magnets
/r/juggalo/comments/g1e3nx/from_a_physicist_icp_is_actually_right_about/