has the format spread here yet?
Because I only have one response and it's "boogie oogie oogie".
She acts like I don't exist until she wants something.
The abdominable snowman
I really need to keep an ion them.
My wife flashed before my eyes.
It was Riveting.
The tailor at the tuxedo shop was constantly trying to measure me, so I asked him to leave me alone.
He said, “Fine. Suit yourself.”
It was way cheaper than having her buried in the cemetery
I was on the phone with my wife and said, “I’m almost home, honey, please put the coffee maker on.” After a twenty second pause, I asked, “You still there sweetheart?”
"Yeah…" she replied. "But I don't think the coffee maker wants to talk right now…"
"If I show you a really good trick, will you give me a free drink?" The bartender considers it, then agrees. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny rat. He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a tiny piano. The rat stretches, cracks his knuckles, and proceeds to play the blues. The bartender pours the man a drink on the house and he puts the rat and piano away. After the man finished his drink, he asked the bartender, "If I show you an even better trick, will you give me free drinks for the rest of the evening?" The bartender agrees, thinking that no trick could possibly be better than the first. The man reaches into his pockets again and pulls out the tiny rat and tiny piano. The rat stretches, cracks his knuckles, and proceeds to play the blues. The man reaches into a third pocket and pulls out a small bullfrog, who begins to sing along with the rat's music. While the man is enjoying his beverages, a stranger confronts him and offers him $100,000.00 for the bullfrog. "Sorry," the man replies, "he's not for sale." The stranger increases the offer to $250,000.00 cash up front. "No," he insists, "he's not for sale." The stranger again increases the offer, this time to $500,000.00 cash. The man finally agrees, and turns the frog over to the stranger in exchange for the money. "Are you insane?" the bartender demanded. "That frog could have been worth millions to you, and you let him go for a mere $500,000!" "Don't worry about it," the man answered. "The frog was nothing special. You see, the rat's a ventriloquist."
"Do you know how to drive this thing?"
He just can’t part with it.
"No, but I told a donkey to fuck off once."
On the other hand, I’m okay.
… for some good clean fun
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.
Tom: holding a cup Do it to my tea! Magician: waves hand Done! om: holding a cup It didn't work
They gave me another one, free of charge.
I came home really drunk last night and my wife wasn’t happy at all. “How much have you had to drink?” she asked sternly, staring at me. “Nothing” I slurred. “Look at me!” she shouted. “It’s either me or the pub, which one is it?”
I paused for a second while I thought and said, “It’s you. I can tell by the voice.”
They fish quite happily for a while until the German catches a huge golden fish, but as he pulls it off the hook it says "Please don't kill me! Spare my life and I'll grant you all a wish!" The German throws the fish back and says "I wish for a mug of beer that will never empty", and immediately a foaming mug of ice-cold German ale appears in his hand. He takes a long swig and when he puts it down, it's still miraculously full! The Frenchman and Englishman are, of course, amazed. "I wish," said the Frenchman, "For a wall to be built around France, ten miles high and ten miles thick, so that nobody can get in and nobody can get out." The fish screws up its eyes in concentration for a moment then says. "Done! And what do you want?" "Is there a wall around France?" asks the Englishman "Yes." replies the fish. "Is it ten miles high and ten miles thick?" "Yes." "And can nobody get in, and nobody get out?" "Yes." "Well then," says the Englishman, "I want you to fill it with water."
I have no idea why he was so desperate for an ex box.
The head poncho.
On the first night of their honeymoon, the new bride tells her husband, “I have a confession to make. I’m not a virgin. I’ve been with one other guy.” “Oh yeah? Who was the guy?” “Tiger Woods, the golfer.” “Well, he’s rich, famous and handsome. I can understand that.”
The couple then makes passionate love. When they finish, the husband gets up and walks to the telephone. "What are you doing?" asks the wife. "I'm hungry. I'm calling room service." "Tiger wouldn't do that." "Oh yeah? What would Tiger do?" "He'd come back to bed and do it a second time." The husband drops the phone and makes love to his wife a second time. When they finish, he goes back to the phone. "What are you doing now?" she asks. "I'm still hungry, so I'm going to ring room service for some food." "Tiger wouldn't do that." "Oh yeah? What would Tiger do?" "He'd come back to bed and do it one more time." The husband puts the phone down and heads back to bed. Exhausted after the third lovemaking session, he shuffles back to the phone and starts to dial. The wife asks, "Are you calling room service?" "No! I'm calling Tiger Woods to find out what's par for this hole!"
It's pasteurized before you know it.
Now it's an Edison
…… but it just made him more sluggish!
… guess you could say he sleighed it
A Chinese doctor can’t find a job in a hospital in the US, so he opens a clinic and puts a sign outside that reads “GET TREATMENT FOR $20 – IF NOT CURED GET BACK $100.”
An American lawyer thinks this is a great opportunity to earn $100 and goes to the clinic. Lawyer: "I have lost my sense of taste." Chinese: "Nurse, bring medicine from box No. 22 and put 3 drops in patient's mouth." Lawyer: "Ugh. this is kerosene." Chinese: "Congrats, your sense of taste is restored. Give me $20." The annoyed lawyer goes back after a few days to recover his money. Lawyer: "I have lost my memory. I cannot remember anything." Chinese: "Nurse, bring medicine from box no. 22 and put 3 drops in his mouth." Lawyer (annoyed): "This is kerosene. You gave this to me last time for restoring my taste." Chinese: "Congrats. You got your memory back. Give me $20." The fuming lawyer pays him, and then comes back a week later determined to get back $100. Lawyer: "My eyesight has become very weak I can't see at all." Chinese: "Well, I don't have any medicine for that, so take this $100." Lawyer (staring at the note): "But this is $20, not $100!!" Chinese: "Congrats, your eyesight is restored. Give me $20"
One has claws at the end of the paws… The other is a pause at the end of a clause.
A laughing stock
I said, “That’s sound advice.”
Knock knock. Who’s there? Amish. Amish who? You're not a shoe, you freaking idiot.
He didn't like to see me sniffing his little sister's panties. Maybe it was because she was wearing it, other than that I don't see what could have bothered him. Anyway, the rest of her funeral went very badly for me.
The living room
Finally he decided on Carlos and ran away to Mexico.
He marched straight up to the counter and said, “Hi. You know, I just HATE drawing welfare. I'd really rather have a job.” The social worker behind the counter said, “Your timing is excellent!” We just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur and bodyguard for his beautiful daughter. You'll have to drive around in his Mercedes, and he'll supply all of your clothes. Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You'll be expected to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips and you will have to satisfy her every need. You'll be provided a two-bedroom apartment above the garage. The salary is $200,000 a year.' The guy, wide-eyed, said, “You're lying !!!” The social worker said, “Yeah, well . . . you started it.”
You can hide but you can't run.
dad: "Why not?" kid: "Do you see that monster under my bed?" dad: [looks under bed] "OMG yes!" kid: "Well, I drank the whole can!"
The European Commission has just announced an agreement whereby English will be the official language of the European Union rather than German, which was the other possibility. As part of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a 5- year phase-in plan that would become known as "Euro-English". In the first year, "s" will replace the soft "c". Sertainly, this will make the sivil servants jump with joy. The hard "c" will be dropped in favour of "k". This should klear up konfusion, and keyboards kan have one less letter. There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f". This will make words like fotograf 20% shorter. In the 3rd year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where more komplikated changes are possible. Governments will enkourage the removal of double letters which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling. Also, al wil agre that the horibl mes of the silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go away. By the 4th yer peopl wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v". During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil sensi bl riten styl. Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi TU understand ech oza. Ze drem of a united urop vil finali kum tru. Und efter ze fifz yer, ve vil al be speking German like zey vunted in ze forst plas.