First and foremost, you’re right to be concerned.

Because it was feeling crumby! (Blatant cake joke for karma! LOL)

If she really wants me to save money she should give me sex at home.

Because you can’t C in the dark.

Because he kisses his mother with that mouth.

After a visit to Berlin, the Pope decides he wants to travel to Rome by car. Off course, he didn't bring a car and so the German government seizes the opportunity to impress him with German engineering. They lend him the most powerful car they have available, with a German driver/bodyguard. And off they go! After a while the Pope ask the drive to pullover: – Young man, could you please drive along the smaller roads? I wanted to see more of the country, not the highway. – But your Holiness, this is the most efficient route. -Yes, but I don't want to take it. -Why not, your Holiness? – Like I said, because I … Oh just get out I'll drive. Now that he's driving himself and wherever he wants, the Pope is having a blast. The driver, who's now in the backseat, is somewhat disgruntled but resigns to his fate and enjoys the view. Near the Austrian border, road works lead the Pope back on the highway. And on this splendid highway, in this amazingly powerful car, the Pope starts to feel the need for speed. But that would be sinful. No no no he can't give in. At this moment, the driver pitches in 'Your Holiness, there are no speed limits on German highways'. Hearing this, the Pope unleashes his long dormant powers of a race pilot and floors it. The car almost leaps with enthusiasm that it can finally show what it can really do. As if by divine intervention all the cars in front of them give way and the car reaches its speed limit, just as it crosses the border with Austria. Within minutes the car is swarmed with police and first responders, tv helicopters are starting to circle. Seeing this Pandemonium, the Pope thinks that his free time has come to an end and pulls over. Several police officers hastily walk over to the driver’s door. The Pope lowers his window and looks up to them with a faint smile. Suddenly the police officers feel very much out of their depth and decide to call the Chief of Police: – Sir, a German car crossed the border at more than twice the speed limit and now we are not sure how to handle it. – What do you mean, you are not sure? Apprehend it! – Yes sir. We got the car sir. But it's seems to belong to someone very important. – Oh. Yes, that might complicate it. Is it a congressman? – No sir, much higher. – Higher? What did you apprehend Angela Merkel? -No, sir. We think still higher, sir. -Higher?! Bloody hell do you think it's God perhaps? – Well sir, the Pope is driving him. ​ Edit: spelling

Cause it's good at drilling privates.

A plasma gun

No! How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat!?

An Edison

He did CrossFit.

I hope it will spice up this autobiography a little

And there’s notre dame thing they can do about it.

His Captain yells, "Good Lord Corporal! What happened to you?" "Well Captain", he says, wiping blood from his face, "I was out on watch, and I looked across the road. And I saw this Russian soldier, real big bastard. And I looked at him, and he looked at me. So I started walking towards him, and he starting walking towards me. And we met in the middle of the road." "And I said to him 'Putin is an evil, murdering, election cheating tyrant!" "And he said to me, 'Trump is retarded, lying, spoiled rotten little baby!" "While we were standing there shaking hands, we got hit by a truck."

There is not one dirty word in this, and it is funny. The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now; the man should be here soon." Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. Good morning, Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..'' Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been expecting you." "Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?" "Well that's what my husband and I had hoped Please come in and have a seat" After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there." "Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!" "Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." "My, that's a lot!" gasped Mrs. Smith. "Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that." "Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said. "Oh my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well – when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with." "She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith. "Yes, I'm afraid so I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look." "Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement. "Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling – I could hardly concentrate, I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in." Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh …equipment? " "It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away." "Tripod?" "Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big to be held in the hand very long." Mrs. Smith fainted….. …

To beat the crowd.

They order a couple of drinks and take subs out of their brief cases. They begin to eat. Seeing this, the angry publican exclaims, " Excuse me but you cannot eat your own sandwiches in here!" The two look at each other, shrug, then exchange sandwiches.

No offense, I just don't enjoy Nascar.