I’ve tried to use the word “mucho” when speaking with my Hispanic friends.
It really means a lot to them.
As they walked around the office, the girl turned visibly upset and soon started crying. Her father asked her what was wrong As everyone gathered around, she sobbed "Daddy, I'm getting bored walking around the office. Please show me those clowns you said you work with"
Who’s there? Dwayne. Dwayne who? Dwayne the bathtub, I’m dwowning.
I saw last night. He hypnotized 7 guys, then dropped the mic on his foot and yelled "FU*K ME" What happened next will haunt me for the rest of my life.
No text found
The secret service isn’t allowed to yell “Get down!” anymore when the president is about to be attacked.
Now they have to yell, “Donald, duck!”
One will burn your eyes, the other will moisturize
…but I can do it with my eyes closed.
Sting in bed the other night, I asked my wife, “Honey, if I died, would you let your next husband have my recliner”?
She replies, “Well it would be a waste not to, he may find it comfortable”. Then I ask, “What about my boat”? And she says, “I just don’t think you will be needing your boat after your gone. We may retire and do a lot of fishing”. So I did some thinking and asked, “How about my truck, surely you’ll sell it because all of the memories of us riding in it together will be too much for you to bear and too awkward with your next husband”. She replies, “You know, it is paid for with low miles, I’ll probably hang on to it”. Then, getting kinda nervous, I said, “Well SURELY you wont let him have my golf clubs”? To which my wife responds, “Oh no honey, don’t worry about that, he’s left handed”.
For years and years, he scrimped, scrounged, and saved up all his money for a lavish trip to Italy. Wanting to look his best for the pontiff, he had a custom-fitted suit tailored to his exact measurements and bought the finest Italian leather boots money could buy. The next morning he awoke before the dawn to make his way to Vatican City to meet the pope on his morning walk through his crowd of devout followers. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd, wanting to get as close to the Holy Father as possible. The grand doors opened and the pope emerged, greeting his followers, shaking hands, and offering blessings. The man caught the pope's eye, and the pope smiled and started walking towards him. This was it! He was finally going to get to share words with God's representative on Earth! Just as he was approaching the man, the pope noticed a downtrodden beggar lying in the ditch opposite the man. The pope changed course, made way for the beggar, bent down, and whispered something in the poor man's ear. The beggar nodded, got up, and walked off. The pope, now on the other side of the crowd, continued on away from the man. The man was devastated. He had missed his only chance to fulfill his ultimate dream. As the crowd dispersed, he noticed the beggar in the distance. A plan emerged in his mind. He made his way up to the beggar and said, "Sir, I would like to offer you a trade. I will give you my suit, my boots, and all of the cash in my wallet in exchange for your rags and tattered shoes. I believe this act of humility is my best chance to finally meet the pope." The poor man quickly agreed, of course, and the two men traded clothes. The next morning, the man made his way back to the Vatican and proceeded to lie down in the exact spot the beggar was the day before. The grand doors opened once again, and the pontiff emerged to meet his people. As the pope was walking through the crowd, the man saw that the pope was heading his way! His plan was going to work! Sure enough, the pope came over to him, knelt down and whispered, "I thought I told you to get the fuck out of here yesterday."
With a sea saw
I don't know how to feel about it
It's still fowl language
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.)
I told her that makes two of us…
So I packed up my stuff and right.
Several men were in the locker room of the gym when a cell phone on a bench rang and a man put it on speaker and begins to talk. Everyone in the room stopped to listen.
Man: Hello! Woman: Hi honey, its me. Are you at the club? Man: Yes. Woman: Im at the shops now and found this beautiful leather coat. Its only $2000: is it OK if I buy it? Man: Sure, go ahead if you like that much. Woman: I also stopped by the Lexus dealership and saw the new models. I saw one that I really liked. Man: How much? Woman: $90,000 Man: OK, but for that price I want it with all options. Woman: Great! Oh, and one more thing. I was just talking to Jane and found out that the house I wanted last year is back on market. They are asking $980,000 for it. Man: Well, then go ahead and offer $900,000. They’ll probably take it. If not, we can go to the extra $80,000 if that’s what you really want. Woman: OK. See you later! I love you too much! Man: Bye, I love you too. The man hung up. The other men in the locker room were staring at him in astonishment, mouths wide open. He turned and asked: Anyone knows whose phone is this?
I can’t believe I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all this time.
Because it is cheaper
Give it a weigh, give it a weigh, give it a weigh now.
Because their horns don't work.
it tastes the same, but it's just not right.
“Hey remember when we were kids and use to finish each other’s sentences?”
…that's Hawai'i roll…
Honestly, I should’ve seen the signs.
Because he did not want to be spotted