I don’t think this Belgian comic about social distancing needs a translation, the ‘boomerness’ speaks for itself
She told me she had collected every piece of merchandise ever made for the band. I was skeptical. Then I saw her place…
The Germans and Americans were reaching a stalemate in WWI. In World War I there was trench warfare, and neither the Americans nor the Germans could get the upper hand. They were reaching a stalemate. One day, an American came up with a plan that would win them the war. This private explained his plan to his trench mates, and they figured, "Why not? It's not like we have any better ideas." The next day, an American soldier called out, "Hans!?" A German popped up and shouted back, "Ja?!" Boom, the German was shot dead. The next day the Americans shouted again, "Hans?!" "Ja?!" Shot dead. This process continued over the next couple of days. The Germans were losing large numbers, and were now finally catching on. The Germans had an emergency meeting. They thought they could come back from the heavy losses using the same tactics as the Americans. Thus, a German asked, "What is a popular American name?" "John!" replied another. The next day, the Germans decided to execute their plan. A German shouted, "John!?" An American called back, "Is that you Hans?!" "Ja!" And that is how the Americans won WWI.
…they’ve been friends for a long time. One day the chicken wakes up to this screaming and runs out of the farmer's house only to find the horse in a pit of mud sinking. Chicken says, “holy shit, how the fuck did you end up in here?” Horse explains “I’m eating a little food, a little hay…next thing you know I’m sinking in the mud.” So what happens? Chicken runs over to the farmer's house and gets the farmers BMW. Now it’s an 850, all black, waxed to perfection, all leather interior – it’s fucking gorgeous. Hops in it, drives back over, ties a rope to the car and pulls his friend to safety. The horse is grateful and says “anytime you need me, I’ll be there." So what happens? About a week later, same thing only this time it’s the chicken sinking in a pit of mud. Horse gallops over, sees his pal sinking in the mud, takes off to the farmer’s house but he can’t drive the BMW, runs back over, whips out his dick and the chicken climbs to safety. Moral of the story – if you are hung like a horse, you don’t need a BMW to pick up chicks!
So i packed my stuff and right.
It was difficult to deal with.
They have a lot of pressure on them.
One night, a police officer was staking out a particularly rowdy bar for possible violations of the driving under the influence laws. At closing time, he saw a fellow stumble out of the bar, trip on the curb, and try his keys on five different cars before he found his. Then, sat in the front seat fumbling around with his keys for several minutes. Everyone left the bar and drove off. Finally, he started his engine and began to pull away. The police officer was waiting for him. He stopped the driver, read him his rights and administered the Breathalyzer test. The results showed a reading of 0.0. The puzzled officer demanded to know how that could be. The driver replied, "Tonight, I'm the Designated Decoy."
But then my Dad reminded me: money doesn’t glow on tees.
Love it, so it leaves you as well.
It's on the house
They will kill your dog
µ Please ignore this text. It's only here to add more words because a single letter joke gets removed by the mods, who don't subscribe to the belief that brevity is the soul of wit. Thank you for not reading this message.
Seriously… How low can you go?
In the days of the wild west, there was a young cowboy who wanted more than anything to be the fastest gunfighter in the world. He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn't yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong. Sitting in a saloon one Saturday night, he recognized an elderly man seated at the bar who had the reputation of being a fast gun in his day. The young gunslinger took a seat next to the old-timer, bought him a drink, and told him the story of his great ambition. "Do you think you could give me some tips?" he asked. The old man looked him up and down and said, "Well, how fast are you?" The young man drew his pistol pretty quick and before anyone knew it, then shoots the hat off of the piano player's head!" The old man looks over at the piano player and says to the young man, "Well, that wasn't bad. But you're wearing your gun too high. You should have your holster lower on your leg so you can get to your gun quicker when you draw. And son, tie the holster down on your leg." The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his Colt Peacemaker and shot the tie off the piano player. "That's terrific!" said the young gunslinger. "Got any more tips for me?" "Yup," said the old man. "Cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it. That'll give you a smoother draw." "Will that make me faster?" asked the younger man. "You bet it will," said the old-timer. The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, then shot a cuff link off the piano player. "Wow!" said the young gunslinger. "I'm learning' somethin' here. Got any more tips?" The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. "See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it. Just but the gun in it, layer it with grease! " The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun. "No," said the old-time, "I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all." "Will that make me a faster gunfighter?" asked the young man. "Probably not!" said the old-timer, "But when Doc Holliday gets done playing that song on the piano, that grease will make it hurt less when he shoves that gun up your ass!"
You can only stare at them for a few seconds . But if you put sunglasses on, you can stare at them all you want.
"I only have my shelf to blame…"
Nothing, they’re free of charge.
He got off with a suspension.
For Christmas morning, I’m going to make Eggs Benedict, and I’m going to serve them on hubcaps from a 1962 Ford…
…because there's no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise.
Some belonged to the priest’s congregation and the others belonged to the rabbi’s. The priest and rabbi left their clothes on the other side of the lake and didn't have time to retrieve them, so they got out of the lake hoping to make a run for it. The priest, running with his hands covering his genitals, looks over at the rabbi who was running with his hands covering his face. “Rabbi! What are you doing?” he asked. The rabbi replied, “In my community, they recognize me by my face!”
But it's harder to deter gents. I'll let myself out.
Dad: "I don't know…where are my dad glasses?"