" One little boy says, "None, the shotgun scared them all away." Teacher says, "That's not the answer I was looking for, but I like the way you're thinking." Boy says to teacher, "I have a question for you." "There's 3 women eating ice cream cones. 1 is licking, 1 is sucking, 1 is biting. Which one is married?" Teacher answers (slightly embarrassed), "I imagine it's the one sucking." Boy says, "No, it's the one with the wedding ring, but I like the way your thinking !"
I just asked Siri "surely it's still not going to be stormy tomorrow?" Siri replied, "yes it will be and don't call me Shirley" Realised my phone was in Airplane mode
Mount Everest. It just hadn't been discovered yet. (compliments of my 8 year old)
because it was soda-pressing
So they can let me down one last time.
From a distance they looked like hares.
I would not have to sell cocaine anymore.
They kill dogs
It’d be a shame if someone put an ‘s’ at the front, and an ‘e’ at the end…
A man goes into a pub, and the barmaid asks what he wants. “I want to bury my face in your cleavage and lick the sweat from between your breasts” he says.
"You dirty prick!" shouts the barmaid, "Get out before I fetch my husband!" The man apologises and promises not to repeat his gaffe. The barmaid accepts this and asks him again what he wants. "I want to pull your pants down, spread yoghurt between the cheeks of your arse and lick it all off" comes the reply. "You dirty filthy pervert. You're banned! Get out!" she storms. Again the man apologies and swears never ever to do it again. "One more chance" says the barmaid. "Now what do you want?" she asks as the man returns. "I want to turn you upside down, fill your cunt with Guinness, and then drink every last drop". The barmaid is furious at this personal intrusion, and runs upstairs to fetch her husband, who's sitting quietly watching the telly. "What's up, Love?" he asks. "There's a man in the bar who wants to put his head between my breasts and lick the sweat off" she says. "I'll kill him! Where is he?" storms the husband. "Then he said he wanted to pour yoghurt down between my arse cheeks and lick it off" she screams. "Right, he's dead!" says the husband, reaching for a baseball bat. "Then he said he wanted to turn me upside down, fill my cunt with Guinness and then drink it all…" she cries. The husband stops, puts down his bat and then returns to his armchair and switches the telly back on. "Aren't you going to do something about it?" she cries hysterically. "Look love… I'm not messing with someone who can drink 12 pints of Guinness."
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.)
There have been barely any posts all year.
But men are so polite, they only look at the covered parts.
but now it's just water under the fridge.
A mother was in the kitchen listening to her five year old playing with his new train set in the lounge.
She heard the train stop and her son saying "All of You bastards who want off, get off now 'cos we're in a hurry! And all of you bastards who are getting on, get on now 'cos we're going down the tracks" The horrified mother went in and told her son, "We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now I want you to go to your room and stay there for TWO HOURS. When you come out, you may play with your train, but I want you to use nice language." Two hours later, the son came out of the bedroom and resumed playing with his train. Soon the train stopped and the mother heard her son say "All passengers who are disembarking the train, please remember to take all of your belongings with you. We thank you for travelling with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one." She hears the little boy continue, "For those of you just boarding, we ask you to stow all of your hand luggage under your seat. Remember, there is no smoking on the train. We hope you will have a pleasant and relaxing journey with us today." As the mother began to smile, the child added… "For those of you who are pissed off about the TWO HOUR delay, please see the fat controller in the kitchen."
The less suicidal people there are
Robin get in the car
The hip consultant
If it isn't 3 holes in the ground…
Step 1: Step 2: Step 5: Step 8: Step 14:
Librarian: I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s in yet. Me: Yeah, that’s the one.
During World War II, four paratroopers each from England, Scotland, France and the US, were on a plane about to jump when they realized there was only one serviceable parachute. The French paratrooper downed a glass of cognac, said "Pour la France!" and jumped without the parachute. The American downed a glass of bourbon, said "For freedom!" and jumped without the parachute. The Scotsman downed a glass of whiskey, said "For Scotland!" and threw the Englishman.
A car full of Irish nuns is sitting at a traffic light in downtown Dublin, when a bunch of rowdy drunks pull up alongside of them. "Hey, show us yer tits, ya bloody penguins!" shouts one of the drunks. Quite shocked, Mother Superior turns to Sister Mary Immaculata and says, "I don't think they know who we are; show them your cross." Sister Mary Immaculata rolls down her window and shouts, "Piss off, ya fookin' little wankers, before I come over there and rip yer balls off!" Sister Mary Immaculata then rolls up her window, looks back at Mother Superior, quite innocently, and asks, "Did that sound cross enough?
A pain in the ass…
Me: Yeah, but it’s son day as well.
A shitty joke.
The bartender says "how did you do that?"
#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.
What I saw was disgraceful, disgusting, dishonest, and disingenuous
ba dum tss
The leader of the terrorists told them that he would grant them each one last request before they were beheaded. The CNN Reporter said, "Well, I’m an American, so I’d like one last hamburger with French fries.” The leader nodded to an underling who left and returned with the burger & fries. The reporter ate it and said “Now, I can die.” The BBC Reporter said, "I’m a reporter to the end. I want to take out my tape recorder and describe the scene here and what’s about to happen. Maybe someday someone will hear it and know that I was on the job till the end.” The ISIS leader directed an aide to hand over the tape recorder and dictated some comments. The reporter then said, "Now I can die knowing I stayed true until the end.” The ISIS leader turned to the Israeli commando and said, “And now, Mr. Israeli tough guy, what is your final wish?” “Kick me in the butt ,” said the soldier. “What?" asked the leader, “Will you mock us in your last hour?” “No, I’m not kidding. I want you to kick me in the butt ,” insisted the Israeli. So the terrorist leader shoved him into the open and kicked him in the behind. The soldier went sprawling, but rolled to his knees, pulled a 9 mm pistol from under his flak jacket, and shot the leader dead. In the resulting confusion, he jumped to his knapsack, pulled out his carbine and sprayed the terrorists with gunfire. In a flash, all terrorists were either dead or fleeing for their lives. As the soldier was untying the reporters, they asked him, “Why didn’t you just shoot them in the beginning? Why did you ask them to kick you in the butt first?” “What?” replied the Israeli, “and have you report that I was the aggressor?
He’s never gonna give you Up.
With a sea-saw.
While he's there this scrawny little guy walks in. He walks over to the boss, and he says ''Are you the boss here?'' The circus owner says, ''Yeah. What do you want?'' The kid says, ''I'd like to join the circus. I got an act." The carnie is intrigued, so he says, ''Oh, yeah? Well, let me see what it is.'' So this little guy goes over to the center pole and he starts climbing up the pole. And he goes all the way up. He climbs up and up and up. He goes all the way up to the very peak of the big top. And he looks down, and he takes a deep breath and he leaps off, and he starts flapping his arms. And he starts flying! And he flies all around the big top! He goes all the way around the place. He goes around the center pole. Pshew! He goes loop-de-loop through the trapezes. Then he gets all the way up and he takes a nosedive right down to the ground. Flapping his arms like mad. And he lands right next to the boss. And once he's safe on the ground again the kid asks, ''Well, what do you think?'' The which the boss says, ''That's all you do? Bird imitations?''
The more ohms, the greater the resistance.