You probably expected a rickroll, but NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION
Four older gentlemen are out golfing, sharing about their lives and eventually the topic of their children’s professional success is brought up. The first guy steps up, hurriedly takes his shot, wiffs the ball off into the woods, and starts walking to find his ball without saying a word…
The second man steps up to take his shot and confidently reports, "My son is doing pretty well. He's just been promoted to manager of the car dealership he works at. In fact, he's doing so well gave the last lady he was seeing a brand new sports car." Then he takes takes a swing and drives the ball down towards the green, and steps aside. The third guy steps up and can't help but escalate with praise for his own son, "That's pretty impressive, but my boy is also doing great. He's a chip off the old block. He's a broker for luxury yachts, and really has a knack for it. He's doing so well that the last woman he was dating he up and just gave her a freaking boat!". He takes his shot and stands next to the other guy. The last gentleman, growing in confidence steps up to the tee, really feeling pride in his son's accomplishments, "Those are nothing to scoff at, no doubt. Believe it or not though, my son is doing even better! He's a top ranked national realtor and had such a profitable year that he up and bought this girl he's been dating an entire freaking house!" He drives his shot almost to the hole and all three walk down to meet the friend that lost his ball in the trees. The first guy chips his ball out as they arrive at the green. As he walks up the last guy shout to him, "What about you? You didn't say anything before you shot… don't you have something to share about your son?" The bashfully dips his head a little and replies, "I don't understand my son. I love him and I'm happy he's happy. He's a cross-dresser, he's gay, and works as a male escort…" They all get quiet for a moment before he continues, "He must be good though – just this year his top clients have bought him a Ferarri, a small yacht, and a new fuckin' house!"
A married couple was in a terrible accident where the woman's face was severely burned. The doctor told the husband that they couldn't graft any skin from her body because she was too skinny, so the husband offered to donate some of his own skin. However, the only skin on his body that the doctor felt was suitable would have to come from his buttocks. The husband and wife agreed that they would tell no one about where the skin came from, and requested that the doctor also honor their secret. After all, this was a very delicate matter. After the surgery was completed, everyone was astounded at the women's new beauty. She looked more beautiful than she ever had before! All her friends and relatives just went on and on about her youthful beauty! One day, she was alone with her husband, and was overcome with emotion at his sacrifice. She said, "Dear, I just want to thank you for everything you did for me. There is no way I could ever repay you." "My darling," he replied, "Think nothing of it. I get all the thanks I need every time I see your mother kiss you on the cheek."
I will find you, and I will kill you. edit: no you wont
A teenage boy is getting ready to take his girlfriend to the prom. First he goes to rent a tux, but there’s a long tux line at the shop and it takes forever. Next, he has to get some flowers, so he heads over to the florist and there’s a huge flower line there. He waits forever but eventually gets the flowers. Then he heads out to rent a limo. Unfortunately, there’s a large limo line at the rental office, but he’s patient and gets the job done. Finally, the day of the prom comes. The two are dancing happily and his girlfriend is having a great time. When the song is over, she asks him to get her some punch, so he heads over to the punch table and there’s no punchline.
They don’t know where home is.
I was walking to the bedroom with a 20-ounce drink. My son was hiding behind the wall and said "boo". He asked "were you scared?" I told him "no, but what if I were and spilled this drink all over myself?" He said "then that would be on you". I told him "nice pun". He still doesn't get it.
It was the best dam program I've ever seen
She couldn’t see that well
Looks like Americans are finally gonna get a taste of democracy and freedom.
At a celebrity party, Stevie Wonder meets golf champ Tiger Woods and mentions that he, too, is an excellent golfer.
Tiger is a bit skeptical that the blind musician can play golf well, but he's too polite to say anything. "When I tee off, " the singer explains, "I have a guy call to me from the green. My sharp sense of hearing lets me aim." Tiger is impressed, and Stevie suggests that they play a round. When Tiger agrees, Stevie asks, "How about if we play for $10,000 a hole?" Tiger insists he couldn't possibly play him for money because of his sight handicap. But Stevie argues and badgers Tiger until Tiger finally relents. Stevie says, "You pick the place and I'll pick the time?" Tiger says, "Fine. Pebble Beach." Stevie replies, "Midnight!"
Hey all you cool cats and kittens,Since half of the shit y’all like to submit is absolute garbage that doesn’t fit this subreddit whatsoever, this subreddit is now approval only. That means your post will not show up in new no matter how many times you resubmit it. As well, we’ve added a neat little reminder when you post here. I’ve pasted it below for your convenience.If your post is not a cartoon, please head down to /r/terriblefacebookmemes. If your post is wholesome or actually funny, try /r/goodboomerhumor. If the art is decent, it probably should go in /r/im14andthisisdeep. If your post is a political cartoon, it will be removed. If your post is the fucking hair dryer cartoon, you will be shot on sight.As well, I’d also like to remind everyone that cartoons that are just about the coronavirus/lockdown/quarantine/social distancing do not a boomer post make. Most of these posts are just observational humor and not making a stupid joke. Examples of jokes that would fit are things like “I’m locked up with my family and I hate them”, “I wish I were at work because technology is the worst”, “the virus isn’t that bad, kids these days are just sensitive.”That’s all folks!
No text found
He was disqualified
We got a long well.
Luckily for me, catscan
She said yes, all the others had been nines and tens
By then he’s a mile away, you have got his shoes, and your can fucking say whatever you want about the cunt.
Luckily for me he was so good, I didn't give a shit.
:Officer: May I see your driver's license? Driver: I don't have one. It was revoked when I got my 5th DWI. Officer: May I see the registration for this vehicle? Driver: It's not my car. I stole it. Officer: The car is stolen? Driver: That's right. But come to think of it, I think I saw the registration in the glove box when I was putting my gun in there. Officer: There's a gun in the glove box? Driver: Yes sir. That's where I put it after I shot and killed the woman who owns this car and stuffed her in the trunk. Officer: There's a BODY in the TRUNK?!?!? Driver: Yes, sir. Hearing this, the officer immediately called his Captain. The car was quickly surrounded by police, and the Captain approached the driver to handle the tense situation: Captain: Sir, can I see your license? Driver: Sure. Here it is. It was valid. Captain: Whose car is this? Driver: It's mine, officer. Here's the registration. The driver owned the car. Captain: Could you slowly open your glove box so I can see if there's a gun in it? Driver: Yes, sir, but there's no gun in it. Sure enough, there was nothing in the glove box. Captain: Would you mind opening your trunk? I was told you said there's a body in it. Driver: No problem. Trunk is opened; no body. Captain: I don't understand it. The officer who stopped you said you told him you didn't have a license, stole the car, had a gun in the glovebox, and that there was a dead body in the trunk. Driver: Yeah, I'll bet the lying son of a bitch told you I was speeding, too!
This guy got really drunk. So drunk that his friends had to carry him. Next morning he wakes up in his own bed, clean, in his pijamas, his wife gone. Groggy as hell, he gets up and starts looking around. In the kitchen he finds an immaculate breakfast, eggs, bacon, coffee and 50 bucks. He finds a note from his wife: "Dearest beloved husband. I hope that my note finds you well. I have prepared this loving breakfast for you and I've left you 50 bucks to go and have a drink with your mates later. Lots of love." Stunned, the guy runs back upstairs and shakes his son awake. "What happened, boy? What's all this?" "Well dad, you came home absolutely pissed and mum was furious. We carried you up to your bedroom and when she started undressing your smelly clothes you began to push her and yell: Leave me alone you scank! I'm a married man!"
They all disagreed with her though.
The prices are $100, $200, and $15. She asks why the last one is so cheap? "Because he used to live in a brothel" says the shopkeeper. She pays the $15. When she gets home the parrot says: "Fuck me, a new brothel!" The woman laughs. When her daughters get home the parrot says: "Fuck me, 2 new prozzies!" The girls laugh too. When the dad gets home the parrot says: "Fuck me Pete, haven't seen you for weeks!"
your mouth moves just like your butt-hole does when you poop. The same is true for "explosive diarrhea".
The former is a latter and the latter is a former.
Son: Soy Milk. Dad: Hola Milk, Soy Dad
It was the best dam show I have ever seen.
No text found
He worked it out with a pencil.
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.
He identifies as he/he.
When suddenly it dawned on me
It’s not hard
So he could pickup his Master’s degree…
Well, at least that's been my experience so far.
The opposite of right
Doctor: Wow! That's the worst case of parking sons disease I have ever seen.
A police officer was driving down the road when he saw a car in the ditch. The crash appeared to pretty bad so he took a close look, when he got to the car and looked inside he saw an entire dead family. The husband, the wife, two kids, and a monkey. He asks the monkey, not expecting much, what had happened. The monkey responds with a gesture of crashing. So he asks further. “What was the Father doing?” The monkey scratches his head, nods and does a drinking gesture. “Oh so he was drinking?” The monkey nods his head excitedly. The officer asks, “what was the Mother doing?” The monkey thinks for a moment, and does a mouth talking gesture. “Bitching?” The cop guessed. The monkey with a smile nods his head in excitement. The cop looks in the back and asks. “What were the kids doing?” The monkey thinks a moment and starts hitting the air. “So they were fighting?” The monkey nods his head. Then the officer asked, “What were you doing?” Without hesitation the monkey smiles making a steering wheel gesture.
I've named him Alen.
He stayed up all night wondering if there was a dog.
…when a car pulled up next to them. The driver rolled down his window and asked in german:” Where is the nearest petrol diner?” The two Americans, not knowing a fraction of German, stared blankly at the driver. “Sorry, but we have no idea what you are saying.” The driver tried again in French and again was met with blank stares and shakes of the head from the two tourists. Getting frustrated, he tried again in Italian, in Spanish, each time receiving nothing but sheepish smiles from the two of them. Finally, he cursed under his breath and drove away angrily. The first American asked his partner: ” Maybe we should learn a second language.” His partner shrugged and replied:” Why? That dude knew four languages and it didn’t help him.”