I have got nothing to lose…
Doctor: "That's not how ADHD works…" Man: "But I keep losing my Focus!"
An eighty-five year old couple, married for almost sixty years, died in a car crash and went to the Pearly Gates.
They had been in good health for the last ten years, mainly as a result of the wife's interest in healthy diets and exercise. St. Peter welcomed them into Heaven and took them to their small palace in heaven- complete with a large bedroom, Jacuzzi, full kitchen, and billiards table. "How much will this cost us?" asked the husband. "Nothing," St. Peter responded. "This is Heaven- everything is free!" Next, he took them to the Championship golf course just minutes away from their mansion. They would have golfing privileges whenever they wanted, an angel as a caddy on command, and the course even changed daily to represent the most elite courses on Earth. "This is… stupendous," the wife asked. "What are the green fees?" Again, St. Peter said "Nothing. This is Heaven- everything is taken care of." Next, he took them to the equivalence of a five-star restaurant next to the course. Wagu beef, prime rib, lobster, veal, salmon, rare vegetables and spices- all one could eat. "How much-" "Again, free," St. Peter responded to the wife. "This is Heaven." The husband paused. "Well… this is all nice, but… do you have any low cholesterol, low-fat options…?" St. Peter chuckled. "In Heaven, you don't have to worry about Earthly problems. You will never get fat and you will never get sick." Suddenly, the husband grew angry, and screamed toward the sky. St. Peter and the man's wife tried calming him down, but he kept getting angrier. "What's the matter???" the wife asked. "Why aren't you happy here???" The man responded, "This is all YOUR fault!!! If it weren't for your fucking 'bran muffins' and 'paleo chicken' recipes, we would have been here 10 years ago!!!"
This week? Just about anything.
Two Syrian refugees compete to see who can become the most English in three weeks. After three weeks the Syrians meet again at a McDonalds. The first Syrian makes his case for him being more English by saying: "Every day I have taken my son to football practice and my daughter to dance class. I've recently started going to the pub and drink pints of Carling and every Friday I have fish&chips. My favourite football team is Manchester United. Beat that!" The other Syrian simply replies with: "Get out of my country, you fucking paki cunt."
and then there’s you, without both.
Imagine having an appendixThis post was made by the appendicitis gang
A man goes to the doctor for a physical. He tells the doctor not to be alarmed, but he has 5 penises.
The doctor says, " 5 penises!? How do your pants fit?" The man replies, " like a glove."
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She was absolutely furious and said she’s never going to play scrabble with me ever again
To prove it was just as good as chicken!
so we call him the postman now.
Because if it were served warm, it would be justwater.
For formal occasions, I wear my James clothes.
You don't find 4-layer toilet paper at McDonalds!
Oh wait nvm, she's back. Just went to go to the bathroom.
I'm sure they'll resurface at some point.
Her: What are you going to do when we see it? Me: We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
So they can Scandinavian
I hope nobody takes a fence.
Apparently the correct terms are "cremation" and "burial".
He used HeHelium
They were prime mates.
He and his twin sister, Ling, had recently moved here from China and so they had very traditional names. One day, Ving mentioned to me how much he hated his name. “What kind of name is Ving? It’s so stupid,” he said, frustrated. “You know, you can get your name changed at city hall.” “Really? It’s that easy?” “Yeah you just have to fill out some paperwork.” I paused. “I can drive you if you want.” “Thanks dude. What would I even change my name to though?” “How about something common that holds on to your roots? Something like Lee.” “Lee. I like it.” Unfortunately, Ling had overheard our talk and launched into a tirade about how his name had been in the family for generations and he couldn’t just throw away his heritage like that. Ving was set though. The next day, we drove to city hall. Ling insisted on coming along, hoping to convince Ving to change his mind. She complained the entire way. Ving wasn’t deterred though. We finally got to city hall and got the paperwork. As he was filling it out, Ving’s face changed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “You’ve been excited all day and yesterday for this.” “I know, I know. It’s just— it’s my dad’s name too. I don’t know.” Ving sighed. “I don’t think I can go through with it.” Ling looked relieved. The receptionist noted that there was a small cancellation fee. Ling happily took out some money. Suddenly, an Asian man in Ray-Bans, neon shorts, and an American flag T-shirt bursted through the doors. “Dad!” Ving, tears streaming down his face, ran to embrace his father. Ving Sr. smiled at his son. “Don’t stop. Be Lee, Ving. Hold on to that fee Ling.”
I said, “Yes, but I’m here to get whiskey instead.”
My brother’s wife has been pregnant for five months and decided that they wanted to reveal the gender of the baby at our family reunion of about 40 people. One night, after just finishing up a BBQ, my brother and his wife stand up and announce to the family that they are going to have a little baby girl. Everyone starts cheering, naturally. Once the cheers die down a little I shout out, “Do you have a name for the baby yet?” My brother replies, “Yeah. Liana Noelle.” Everyone starts to “Ooohhh” and “Ahhhh” and proclaim how pretty of a name it is. Then after a moment I shout, “How the hell are you supposed to spell Liana with no L?”
One is a member of the Gestapo. One is an Imperial Japanese officer. And one is a Fascist Italian Commander. They are all sitting in their holding cell discussing what they are going to do when they get interrogated. The German says, "My superior German spirit and intelligence will make it impossible for them to break me." The Japanese says, "It is only through my undying devotion to the Emperor that I will be able to withstand their torture." The Italian says, "I'm fucked." The German is the first to be interrogated, and as he leaves they wish him luck. Nearly a whole day passes before the German returns to the cell, covered in bruises and blood. The other two ask him what happened. "Even my perfect genes could not protect me from their methods. I have failed my country," Next, the Japanese is up to be interrogated. 3 days pass and he returns to the cell. His eyes are both black, fingers broken, and body bruised and bloodied. "I have dishonored myself and my Emperor. When they release me, I must commit honorable seppuku." Lastly, the Italian is up, and he leaves already begging for his life. A whole week passes before he returns. Beaten nearly to death, he is carried in by 2 soldiers. One of the soldiers jeers, "I can't believe you guys broke instead of this dago." The other 2 are shocked. Amazed that this Italian could take their punishments and not break. They ask him how he did it. "I wanted to give in immediately, but I couldn't speak." "What do you mean you couldn't speak?" The others ask. "They tied my hands behind my back."
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As she's perusing, she notices the most gorgeous rose she's ever seen sitting next to the cashier, and inquires about its origin. "Oh, sorry," the cashier replies. "That one's not for sale. I got that as a gift from a fellow florist for hooking him up with a woman I met yesterday." "Yesterday?!" she gasps. "How did they hit it off so quickly?" "Well, he's a wonderful lover, for one. He's a really nice guy, of course. And to top it off," he said, leaning into a whisper, "he's got a 10 inch cock!" She blushes. "Sounds like a catch to me! Where can I find him?" "He's just a block over. But fair warning, he's also a little kooky. He's only interested in women named after flowers. If I meet someone like that, I send them his way, and then he sends me the flower as a thank you. Yesterday was Rose, and a week ago, I recommended a woman named Violet to him," he said, indicating a slightly wilted violet in a vase behind him. The woman thanks him for the info and leaves the shop, bitter about her own name. Undeterred, she visits the well-endowed florist. She steps up to the counter and pointedly says, "I heard you are particularly…skilled in certain areas?" He smirks. "What is your name?" Pouting slightly, she replies "Kris." His smile falters, and his head sinks as he shakes his head. Kris's heart drops. "Well then…if it's not too much trouble, I'd like some flowers for my mother." Suddenly, he brightens up again. Without another word, he takes her hand and locks the shop door. Three hours of mind-altering sex later, she bids him goodbye with a kiss. "And please," he says, "tell your mother she is welcome to as many flowers from my shop as she would like." Taken aback, she promises to convey the message, and calls her mother that night to tell her everything. The next day, Kris feels like a million bucks and swings by the original florist's shop. "I just wanted to thank you for telling me about that gentleman! He was AMAZING!" He smiles sheepishly. "I suppose I should thank you too. I just got another beautiful flower for recommending you to him." "Really? What flower could he have possibly sent that was named after me?" The florist sighs. "Chrysanthemum." EDIT: Just to be clear, this is 100% OC. I wrote it several months ago and have posted it a few times since then. This is a slightly tweaked version from the last one. I deleted all but the most recent first posting.
A paragraph, because hes too short to be an esse
Just got to get this off my chest…. I’m getting sick and tired of people complaining about the price of things, $2.70 for coffee, $1.50 a cookie, $4.00 an hour for parking.
If I hear any more moaning.. I'm stopping inviting people to my house.
When I was in kindergarten, I was so caught up in learning the names of all the numbers that I memorized them out of order.
I couldn't see the fours for the threes.
How do you tell a time travelling joke?
The coach grimaced as he watched his young ice hockey team. At one point during the game, he called one of his 7-year-old players aside and asked, “Do you understand what cooperation is? What a team is?” The little boy nodded affirmatively…
"Do you understand that what matters is not whether we win or lose, but how we play together as a team?" The little boy nodded once more. "So…" the coach continued. "I'm sure you know that when a penalty is called, you shouldn't argue, curse, attack the referee, or call him a pecker-head. Do you understand all that?" Again the little boy nodded. He continued, "And when I call you off the ice so that another boy gets a chance to play, it's not good sportsmanship to call your coach a dumb asshole, is it?" The little boy nodded yet again. "Good." said the coach. "Now go over there and explain all that to your mother."
Three brothers were competing to see who was able to give their elderly mother the best birthday gift
The first one bought her a mansion. The second one bought her a Porsche. The third one, knowing how religious their mom is, bought her a remarkable parrot. It took 18 monks 10 years to teach him how to recite the whole Bible. It’s one of a kind, it cost 20 million dollars. After some time, their mother sent out her letters of thanks: "John," she wrote to the first one, "The mansion you bought is too big. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the entire house." "Peter," she wrote to the second one, "I’m too old to travel. I stay most of the time at home, so I rarely use the Porsche." "Dearest Samuel," she wrote to her third son, "You have the good sense to know what your mother likes. That chicken was absolutely delicious!"
“This one is gonna sleigh you.”
There were three POWs together in a British prison in the Second World War, a German, a Japanese, and an Italian.
The British began by torturing the German. After long hours of silence infected by bloodcurdling screams, he talked, and was sent back to the prison, ashamed. He told the others what he had done and urged them to be stronger than he was. They next began torturing the Japanese man. Through all the pain and agony, he stayed strong for three days, but in the end, talked. He was sent back to the prison, having brought shame to himself, his family, and his country. They finally sent in the Italian. For an unending three weeks, they tortured him, until they realized if they did anything else to the poor man, he would die, so they sent him back. When he got back to the prison cell bloody and battered, the other POWs asked him, "So? Did you talk?" "How could I talk with my hands tied behind my back?"