I hope you guys are having a better day than I am.

“I don’t know we never measure it”

Before he knows it, he's face to face with none other than God himself, Author of the Universe, Maker of All. God smiles beatifically and says, “Don't worry. The doctors working on you are good; you'll be back in no time. But as long as you're here, do you have any questions you'd like to ask?” The antivaxer thinks and says, “I know there must be reasons, beyond our understanding, why evil is allowed to exist. But why on Earth do you allow the evil, corrupt system of vaccines to exist?!” God shakes His head, patiently. “My child,” He says, “It is not evil to be mistaken. Which is to your benefit, because in this case, the mistake is yours. Just as so many people have tried to tell you over the years, vaccines are effective and far safer than the diseases they protect against. I give you My Word on that. Now, return, with My Peace upon you.” Suddenly, the antivaxer is staring up at the ceiling of an operating room, as his heart starts beating on its own once more. By the time he's able to receive visitors, the man is desperate to talk to his antivax friends, to let them know the vital truth he brought back from the other side. He calls them all and insisted that they be there at his side the very minute he's cleared to see anyone – he has huge, huge, HUGE news for them. Finally, his friends are gathered around him, and he motions for them to gather close. “It turns out,” he starts, “the conspiracy goes a LOT higher up than we thought…”

I spent half the night crying and then shit myself.

[depleted]

Stevie Wonder answering the iron.

Because Dshells were too big.

My wife seems to think it's for dyslexia.

Over the next hour, the Englishman drinks a lot of alcohol and goes out of control. He begins to scream cuss words and annoy everyone in the bar. Just as the bartender is planning to throw him out, the Chinese guy says, "Hi, sorry for bad English"

The one whose sack reads "Idaho"

Downstairs in the tavern he is drinking before retiring to his room. The innkeep approaches him and proposes a challenge. He has a magical chicken that will grant him one wish if he can beat her in a trivia contest. The man is bemused but accepts the challenge, figuring there’s no harm in indulging him. The man brings out the hen from the back room. The innkeep explains that she only speaks Spanish, but he will translate. The man also speaks Spanish so they decide to have the contest in Spanish. They begin the trivia battle and the chicken wins decisively. The hen speaks perfectly Spanish and answers every question accurately. The man is blown away, a little disappointed not to get his wish but deciding that the novelty of a genius talking chicken was worth the time anyway. He tells in the innkeep about how he didn’t anticipate having such an interesting evening. The innkeeper laughs and says “No one expects the Spanish Inn quiz wish hen.”

Policeman: Whos car is this, where are you taking it and what do you do for a living? Miner: Mine

Two priests are fishing on lake outside of Rome. It's a beautiful day, the sun is light, and the water is smooth. Suddenly the first priests fishing rod bends alarmingly; he has hooked a huge fish! It's a struggle but he managed to reel it in. It's a beautiful rainbow coloured fish and big enough to feed a family. "Would you look at the size of that Fucker!" he exclaims, startling the second priest. "Hey, you can't talk like that; you're a man of the cloth. I'm a man of the cloth!" Says the second priest, scandalised. The first priest raises his hands in a calming gesture "It's ok my good fellow, that's the fish's name. It's an Italian Fucker Fish." After breathing a sigh of relief, the second priest is able to appreciate the fish a bit more. "Why don't we cook it for our dinner with the His Holiness the Pope tonight" he says. The first priest agrees, and they go their separate ways, the first priest to return their boat and the second to deliver the fish into the Vatican. Priest number two lobs up at the convent and knocks at the door, a sister answers and he proudly shows her the fish. "Could the mother superior cook this Fucker for our dinner with His Holiness the Pope?" He asks. Scandalising the poor sister. "You can't talk like that!" she says "You're a man of the cloth. I'm a woman of the cloth". "Fret not, dear sister" the priest says "that is the fish's name. It's an Italian Fucker Fish." Mollified the nun agrees to prepare the fish for the mother superior to cook. She scales and guts the fish and then calls on the mother superior. "Mother, I have prepared this Fucker so that you may cook it for our dinner tonight with His Holiness the Pope". Mum superior nearly has a heart attack. "My child" she shrieks "We are women of the cloth. You cannot use such language!" The nun placates the mother by explaining that the fish is an Italian Fucker Fish. And, so assured, she agrees to cook the fish for their dinner with His Holiness. Later that night both Priests, the Nun and the Mother Superior are at dinner with His Holiness the Pope. They remove the silver cover from their meal and serve the fish. The Pope takes a few bites and a sip of wine and states "This fish is fantastic, practically divine" "I caught the Fucker." Says the first priest. "Well I brought the Fucker into the city." Says the second. "I scaled and gutted the Fucker." Says the nun. "And I cooked the Fucker." Says the mother superior. His Holiness takes a look around the table, takes another sip of his wine and says "You know what? You cunts are alright!"

Basically, I'm the Chairman of the Board.

Hitler volunteered for the army.

Supplies!!!

He was a her before.

I replied the chances of two serial killers being in the same car are astronomical.

The priest asks if he would like to confess his sins and the man replies, "Yes, father. I used the "F-word" over the weekend." The priest says, "Oh okay, just say three Hail Marys and try to watch your language." The man replies that he would like to confess as to why he said the "F-word". The priest sighs and tells him to continue. "Well father," he begins. "I played golf on Sunday with my buddies instead of going to church." The priest says, "And you got upset over that and swore?" The man replied, "No, that wasn't why I swore. On the first tee I hooked my drive well left into the trees." The priest said, "And that's when you swore." The man replied, a little testily because of the constant interruptions, "No, it wasn't. When I walked up the fairway, I noticed my ball got a lucky bounce and I had a clear shot to the green. However, before I could hit the ball, a squirrel ran by and grabbed my ball and scurried up a tree." The priest asked, "Is that when you said the 'F-word'?" The man replied, "No, because an eagle then flew by and caught the squirrel in its sharp talons and flew away." The priest let out a breath and queried, "Is that when you swore?" The man replied, "No, because the eagle flew over the green and the dying squirrel let go of my golf ball and it landed within 5 inches of the hole." The priest screamed, "Don't tell me you missed that fucking putt!"