I’m tired of all of these people just taking screenshots and adding a shitty caption just to make it a meme.
At first, I thought she was joking. But then I saw her face…
First guy says, "Tuna fish on rye again? I tell ya. If that bitch makes me tuna fish on rye again tomorrow, I'm just going to jump off this building and kill myself!" Second guy says, "Leftover meatloaf for the third day in a row! If I gotta eat this crap one more day, I'm just going to jump off this building and end it all!" Third guy says, "Bologna sandwiches again! Yuck! If I gotta eat this shit one more time, I'm just gonna jump." The next day, the first guy opens his lunch. He sees it's a tuna on rye, and he yells, "FUCK!!!" and he jumps off the building and splatters on the street below. The second guy opens his lunch box. "Goddamn meatloaf again! That's it!" And he leaps to his death as well. Splat! The third guy opens his lunch box. "FUCK!" he says. "Bologna! Goodbye, world!" And he steps off the girder too. A moment later, he splatters on the street below. At the funeral, the widows are sobbing and crying to the heavens. "Oh, Joe! If you'd only you'd told me you didn't like tuna fish! I would have made you something else!" And she breaks down, inconsolable. The second widow tears at her shirt. "Bill! Dear sweet Bill! Why didn't you tell me you hated meatloaf so much! I had a fridge full of cold cuts of all types!" And she collapses to the floor, heartbroken. Everybody looks at the third widow, sitting there knitting all by herself. She looks up and realizes they're staring. "Don't look at me," she says. "That idiot packed his own lunches."
She wanted to see the task manager
Was walking down the street yesterday, seen an ad in the shop window. “T.V FOR SALE, €1, VOLUME STUCK ON FULL”
I said, can't turn that down.
Such a relief when they said it was just a bank robbery.
than the men who mention it.
I thought to myself "well I can't turn that down!"
In the bathtub, I always play Atlantis with my belly. But it just doesn't want to go down.
If no one was home, I would just leave a brochure on the kitchen table.
Last week I caught someone trying to steal a light bulb! When I asked them if they needed help the person quickly shoved the bulb into their mouth and muttered. "Nah mate just looking for a light snack!" and walked off.
The doctor takes one look at him and says, “Well, I can clearly see your nuts.”
Bartender: "Why do you have a steering wheel in your pants?" Pirate: "Arrrr, it's driving me nuts!"
People in Dubai don't like the Flintstones but people in Abu Dhabi do
Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. PHD’s Letter From Birmingham Jail, his response to southern religious leaders accusing his protest movement of being too extremist and badly timed.
I highly suggest everyone reads the full text of the letter linked at the bottom of this post. The mod team was deliberating for days to think of what sections we should link to as an excerpt in this post, when we realized that we were just copying the entire letter at one point. Every word King writes here is powerful.You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city’s white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.[…]My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”–then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that “an unjust law is no law at all.”[…]Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.[…]I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.[…]I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.[…]And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as “rabble rousers” and “outside agitators” those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies–a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label.https://ift.tt/2UjhbQc /r/PoliticalHumor mod team decided that this sticky would be a much more effective support action than shutting down the subreddit or other standard Reddit protests, because honestly, those protests don’t do much.)
His cones don’t work.
He said only thyme would tell.
We’ll keep you updated as the story unfolds…
“What are those knives doing in your car? Asked the officer. “I use them in my juggling act,” says the juggler. “Oh yeah?” “Let’s see you do it.” Says the policeman. So the man starts tossing and juggling the knives. A guy driving by sees this and says, “Wow, am I glad I stopped drinking. Look at the test they’re making you do now!”
No text found
A zoo just had several break-ins and many animals are now running around loose in the park. In today’s meeting however, management was only concerned about discussing changes to the gift shop…
I'm not sure why we're not addressing the elephant in the room…
Fruit flies like a banana.
and everyone inside dies. They then get to meet their maker, and because of the grief they have experienced, he decides to grant them one wish each before they enter paradise. They're all lined up, and God asks the first one what the wish is. "I want to be gorgeous," and so God snaps his fingers, and it is done. The second one in line hears this and says "I want to be gorgeous, too." Another snap of his fingers and the wish is granted. This goes on for a while but when God is halfway down the line, the last guy in line starts laughing. When there are only ten people left, this guy is rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off. Finally, God reaches this guy and asks him what his wish will be. The guy calms down and says: "Make 'em all ugly again."
Because it's a Joint effort
I don’t know what he laced them with, but I was tripping all day
When all of the sudden in the midst of a paticularly moving segment, he hears a loud, uproarious sneeze coming from amongst the crowd. Stalin stops speaking, glares at the soldiers, becomes very visibly annoyed, and says "Who sneezed?…" All of the soldiers don't say anything, some of them start to sweat and others nervously glance around. After a brief moment Stalin motions towards a few soldiers with him on the stage. "Execute the first row…" he commands, and the soldiers on stage begin opening fire at the first row of troops on the ground. "I'll ask again, who sneezed?" says Stalin. Another pause, and no one speaks up. Finally Stalin says "Execute the…" but before he can finish, a soldier about 4 rows back raises his hand and says "It was me General Secretary Stalin! I'm the one who sneezed." Stalin then stares cold and hard at the soldier who spoke up for an uncomfortable amount of time, before he leans towards his microphone and says "Bless you."
A Irishman wants a job, but the boss won't hire him until he passes a little math test. Here is your first question, the boss said. "Without using numbers, represent the number 9." "Without numbers?" the man says, "Dats easy." And proceeds to draw three trees. "What's this?" the boss asks. "Tree and tree, plus tree makes 9" says the man. "Fair enough," says the boss. "Here's your second question. Use the same rules, but this time the number is 99." The man stares into space for a while, then picks up the picture that he has just drawn and makes a smudge on each tree… "Ere ye go." The boss scratches his head and says, "How on earth do you get that to represent 99?" "Each of them trees is dirty now. So, it's dirty tree, and dirty tree, plus dirty tree. Dat makes 99." The boss is getting worried that he's going to actually have to hire the guy, so he says, "All right, last question. Same rules again, but represent the number 100." The man stares into space some more, then he picks up the picture again and makes a little mark at the base of each tree and says, "Ere ye go. One hundred." The boss looks at the attempt and says, "You must be nuts if you think that represents a hundred!" The man leans forward and points to the marks at the base of each tree and whispers, "A little dog came along and pooped by each tree…so now you got dirty tree and a turd, dirty tree and a turd, and dirty tree and a turd, which makes one hundred!"
He let out a little wine.
It has always been my Achilles’ elbow.
4 years ago today, I shared the worst joke I ever created. Here it is again for those that missed it.
There are two identical twin brothers that live together. One happens to be a well-respected dentist, and the other can't seem to keep a job. Instead of actively looking for work, he likes to sit around at home. One Saturday, the dentist is hungry, and puts his brother on the spot. He tells him to get off his lazy behind and go get them some food. After some protest, the lazy brother takes the car and leaves for the store. In the meantime, the dentist takes a nap on his day off. He turns off his phone so he won't be interrupted. About 30 minutes later, the lazy brother gets into a head-on collision in the intersection by the grocery store. His vital signs are fading; he's unconscious and barely moving. An ambulance picks him up and rushes him to the hospital. He ends up in the Emergency Room under observation, but his condition is critical. They try calling his dentist brother, but he doesn't pick up because his phone is off. The dentist wakes to a knock on the door. Suspecting a solicitor, he ignores it, but the knocking continues. Eventually, he resolves to get up and yell at the person at the door. When he does, he reveals— the grim reaper. He is just as he appears in movies; a full skeleton underneath a tattered cloak. The grim reaper swears. "Oh no! This always happens with identical twins". "What do you mean?" asks the dentist. "Well… if you must know, your brother was in a critical car accident, and I've come to take him to the underworld. I'm afraid his time on Earth has ended. I'll take my leave now." The dentist is noticeably upset. He says "Wait! Isn't there some way I can challenge you for my brother's life? After all, YOU made the mistake. Certainly there must be a way I can bargain for his life." The grim reaper asks "What do you have in mind?" The dentist thinks. "How about a challenge? If I beat you, you let my brother go free." The grim reaper laughs. "I will beat you in any challenge. What challenge do you propose?" The dentist smiles. "I propose we see who has the cleanest teeth. 5 minutes of brushing each, then we decide." "Very well" says the grim reaper, who makes his way to the bathroom. Once there, he pulls back his tattered cloak to reveal his skull. It's glistening. He takes a toothbrush from the bathroom, loads it with toothpaste, and brushes. After 5 minutes, the shiniest teeth anyone has ever seen glisten and make the room bright. The grim reaper grins. "You are foolish human. But, you are entitled to your chance." The dentist takes another toothbrush, loads it with toothpaste, and starts brushing like a madman. When his 5 minutes are up, he spits out the paste. He smiles. It's unbelievable. The shine from the dentist's teeth is so beautiful that he can see the grim reaper's reflection in his perfectly clean teeth. The winner is obvious. The grim reaper hangs his head in shame. "You win, human. This time. Your brother will live." He disappears in a puff of smoke. At the same instant, the bed-ridden brother wakes up in the hospital. Not only is he uninjured, he seems perfectly healthy. Suddenly, the phone by his bed rings. It's his brother, the dentist. He picks up. "Hey bro. You'll never believe what happened. Apparently, I went out to the market and got hit by a car. They say I almost died." The dentist smiles on the phone and says. "That's interesting, bro. Today you might say that I also had a brush with death."
But graphing is where I draw the line